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Now and then a sense of the grievous 
insult that was being put upon him would 
stir his Texan indignation. 


Tom Wickham 

Corn Grower 


By 

Carl Brandt 



Illustrated by Fred J. Arting 

The Reilly & Britton Co. 
Chicago 


/ 


Copyright, 1916 
By 

The Reilly & Britton Co. 



AUG 141916 


Tom Wickham, Corn Orcnoer 

©CI.A4372<J9 


CONTENTS 


I Bad News or Good? 9 

II Plans 21 

III Delay 31 

IV John D. Elwood 39 

V A Surprise — and What It Led 

To 58 

VI Bear Island and Big Chris. ... 69 

VII The Attack 79 

VIII The Deserted Chamber 91 

IX The Rescue — and a Bath 103 

X ‘^Whiskers’’ 116 

XI On the Trail 125 

XII Tom's Errand 139 

XIII The Levee 150 

XIV The Future 158 

XV Big Chris ON THE Trail 167 

XVI The Post of Danger 180 

XVII The Audience with His Grace. 193 

XVIII The Freshet — and a Surprise. 201 


XIX Whiskers — Alias Steve 

Whitney 213 

XX The Escape 225 

XXI The Chase Begins 231 

XXII The Chase Ends 250 

XXIII The Mysterious Photograph. . . 261 

XXIV The Harvest 271 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Now and then a sense of the grievous insult 
that was being put upon him would stir 
his Texan indignation Frontispiece 


Ssh-sh ! ’’ Bob warned in an excited 
whisper. ‘‘We are right on their 
camp ! ” 66 ^ 


The others raced up to Ned, catching up 
sandbags as they ran. Plop! plop! plop! 
the bags fell into the breach 160 


Bob threw his cap high in the air. “ WeVe 
made over one hundred bushels to the 
acre ! ’’ 


282 








Tom Wickham, Corn Grower 

CHAPTER I 

BAD NEWS OR GOOD? 

“ But, Pop, this bulletin proves that you can 
get a hundred more pounds of tobacco to the 
acre if you’ll plant where the drainage is good ! ” 
Big Chris Wickham raised his eyes from the 
newspaper he had been laboriously reading and 
glanced at his fifteen-year-old son. He was a 
grizzled man of fifty, strong, unbent by the 
years of toiling in the fields for his living. 
Honest and just, an elder in the church, he 
looked every man in the eye proudly — yet he 
held book learning as of little worth and was 
secretly contemptuous of those who did not 
work with their hands. Now, as he looked at 
his son, a smile played at the corners of his 
mouth. 


9 


10 


TOM WICKHAM 


Still tryin’ to learn the old man new tricks, 
my son? I reckon I know as much about 
plantin’ as them as writes books to learn fool- 
ishness to people who ought to know better.” 

‘‘ They don’t learn out of a book, Pop ; they 
learn by planting too! They have a wonderful 
place out at the State Farm and — and they 
make a lot bigger crop of everything than 
we do ! ” 

I reckon so. I — reckon — so,” drawled the 
boy’s father. ‘‘ And it costs ’em twice as much 
to make. Throwing boughten fert’lizer around 
like ’twas nothin’. That ain’t farmin’ ; it’s plumb 
riotous livin’ ! ” 

The boy gave up, knowing that once again he 
was beaten. Ever since he had learned to read, 
he had been fascinated by the bulletins that 
Uncle Sam sends to the farmers to tell them 
of the new methods and discoveries that tend 
to make the farmer’s life easier and more profit- 
able. Time after time he had tried to enlist his 
father’s interest, in the hope that he would try 
some of the experiments, only to come up 
against the firmly-rooted prejudice to anything 
new, which had been and is the hardest thing 


BAD NEWS OR GOOD 11 

the Agricultural Department has to contend 
with. 

Tom knew his father's ambition. It was to 
own a farm of his own — a place that would 
be a permanent home. All his life he had been 
a tenant — a man who farmed a section of a 
big plantation, paying with a portion of his 
crops for the rent of his house and the privi- 
lege of working. Invariably, during the years, 
when his goal was nearly in sight, when out of 
unremitting toil he had almost wrested the sav- 
ings that would buy a place, a bad year would 
come, his crops would fail, and the savings 
would melt before the fire of necessity. Tom 
knew of this, and his reading led him to believe 
that the cure was in the increase of production 
through scientific farming. 

As these things ran through the lad's brain 
he was conscious that his father was laying 
down his paper. Tom looked up to find the 
older man's eyes again upon him. A sudden 
sinking of the heart told him that his father's 
words would be unpleasant. 

Your schoolin' is about over for the year, 
Thomas ! " was what he heard. 


12 


TOM WICKHAM 


'' Why?^’ burst from the boy. 

“ Spring’s here and I figger you’re big enough 
to be right smart help to me this year. Reckon 
we can put the sandpit field in corn — ” 

'' But — but, Pop, school doesn’t stop until 
June and — and I — I’ve got to keep on!” 

''How so?” inquired the father, patiently. 

" Because — because — Oh, because I’ve just 
got to, that’s all. I — I want to learn and he 
something, not just a tenant all my life! ” 

Tom had hit a vulnerable spot in his excite- 
ment. If he had stopped to think, he would 
not have thrown up to his father his failure in 
life. As it was, the shaft went deep into the 
man’s heart and hurt as it went. But cruel as 
it was, perhaps after all it was the only thing 
that could have got for Tom what he wanted 
so desperately — the chance to keep on at school. 

" No — no,” said Big Chris slowly. " No, ye 
don’t want to be a renter ! ” He clenched his 
fists. ‘'Ye reckon that schoolin’ is going to 
keep ye from it?” His tone showed his 
disbelief. 

" I do! ” cried Tom. " I know it! Oh, Pop, 
please let me go on. I’ll work like sixty after 


BAD NEWS OR GOOD 13 

school to make up for it! Til do just as much 
as if I was home all day. Please ! '' 

Ye can, then,'’ said Wickham, gruffly. ‘‘ But 
I aim to work ye mighty hard — I reckon ye'll 
certainly wish ye weren't tryin' to farm an' get 
schoolin' too." 

With this he stalked out of the room, knowing 
that he had been worsted,- and chagrined that 
the wound made by an impetuous word from 
his son had softened him and made him lay 
down his defiance against book learning." 

As for Tom, his heart rejoiced as he stumped 
his way over the rutty road to school the next 
morning. Life was very good. Winter was 
over, the ground was soft and gave out pungent 
odors. The quail had begun to whistle their 
spring refrain, ‘‘ Bob White — Bob — Bob 
White," and last night, just before he had 
slept, from far off in the distance had come to 
him through his open window the first sad-glad 
song of whippoorwill." 

Besides the joy that spring brings to a boy, 
Tom's special reason for thanksgiving lay in the 
fact that he was not to be denied school and 
the companionship of the boys who were his 


14 


TOM WICKHAM 


chums. Not even, the certain knowledge of the 
hard work he would have to put in for his 
father could take the keen edge off his happiness. 

Although Tom Wickham took the school he 
went to as a matter of course — it was the only 
school he had known — it was far from being 
an ordinary institution. 

In the first place, the teacher was Edward 
Moseley, the owner of Crossways, the planta- 
tion of which Tom’s father rented a portion. 
If great upheavals had not come during the 
former’s lifetime, his lot would have been that 
of a successful planter, not that of a country 
schoolmaster. 

But the Civil War broke out when Edward 
Moseley was yet a senior at the University of 
Virginia at Charlottesville. He had gone there 
as the heir to Crossways, in those days one of 
the great plantations of Virginia, being only 
twenty miles from Richmond. When, reluc- 
tantly, Virginia seceded from the Union, to the 
building of which she had given so greatly, 
young Moseley laid down his books and, with 
every other member of his class, took up the 
sword. He fought in the losing battles of that 


BAD NEWS OR GOOD 


15 


grim war of brothers until one day a minie- 
ball found him as its mark. The wound — it 
was in the leg — rendered him unfit for further 
service and he came back to his patrimony. 
That which he had left in the full flower of 
prosperity was now a sickening waste of deso- 
lation. By some chance the Big House, built 
of brick that had been brought a hundred years 
ago in sailing vessels from England, had been 
left intact. His parents had died, broken- 
hearted over the struggle, and only a sister was 
left to him. 

She came to keep house for him, and with 
her help he took up the almost impossible task 
of wresting a living from the soil. Before the 
war, with cheap labor, the harvests had been 
plentiful; but in those dark days of reconstruc- 
tion, when labor could not be had, there was 
famine — even for the laborers. 

It was hard pulling, especially so for this 
man, whose whole life was bound up in the 
books he had so hated to leave when the war 
broke out, yet somehow, almost miraculously, 
he succeeded in keeping the house and provid- 
ing enough to eat. By selling some of the 


16 


TOM WICKHAM 


timber, renting portions of the place, even by 
doing what almost broke his heart to do — let- 
ting parts of the plantation go to strangers — 
he managed to exist and keep up most of the 
traditions of his family. 

The school had been an outgrowth of the 
tenant system he had inaugurated. During the 
hard years of reconstruction little thought was 
given to the public schools. Mr. Moseley saw 
the children of his tenants growing up in ignor- 
ance, and built his schoolhouse primarily to take 
care of them. The enthusiasm and love of 
teaching that he brought to his work were so 
great that soon the fame of the little school 
went abroad. This brought applications from 
people throughout Virginia, and even beyond, 
asking that their boys be taken by Mr. Moseley. 
Thereafter, each year, the Big House sheltered 
as many boarding scholars as its hospitable roof 
would cover. Having the boys around the house 
had probably filled the aching gaps that must 
have been in the hearts of both brother and 
sister, for during all these years of struggle 
neither had found time to marry. 

As Tom Wickham jumped the pasture fence 


BAD NEWS OR GOOD 


17 


of the home farm, he thought of how patient 
and painstaking Mr. Moseley had been with him. 
And, he reflected, at times he must have tried 
his teacher’s patience badly, for until the possi- 
bility had arisen of having the privilege of school 
taken from him, he had not appreciated what 
he was getting, and he remembered clearly many 
breaches of discipline for which he had been 
responsible. By the time he arrived at the 
stables and was approaching the knot of boys 
in front of the schoolhouse, he was in a mood 
of repentance for past sins and filled with a 
desire to do much better in the future. 

His own feelings, however, were swept away 
when he came up to the other boys. It had 
struck him as curious that they should be so 
quiet — usually there was a ball game or some 
form of active pastime going on until the first 
bell rang — but soon he knew the reason. All 
were grouped around Bob Hazard, a boy from 
New York, who, with Ned Moseley, the teacher’s 
nephew, made up Tom’s own little band of 
chums. They were chorusing their condolences 
for something that had evidently happened to 
Bob. Brushing through the crowd, Tom put 


18 TOM WICKHAM 

his hand on his friend’s shoulder and demanded: 

‘‘ What’s wrong, Bob? ” 

‘‘ Everything,” was the dejected answer. 
‘‘ I’ve got to stay here all summer ! ” 

‘‘What? You going to stay here? Why, I 
thought you and your father were going on a 
long cruise ! ” 

“We were; that’s just the tough luck of it. 
Brother Eddy (this was the name by which 
Mr. Moseley was affectionately called) has just 
heard from Dad. He said he had to go to 
Russia on business at once and he did not like 
to take me out of school. He wanted to know 
if I could stay here if he did not get back by 
the middle of June. He won’t get back, though; 
not — not until ’way after school has opened 
again ! ” 

“ I bet he will, too! ” defended Tom. “ Don’t 
you think so, Ned?” He turned to the other 
member of the triumvirate and noticed that the 
rest of the fellows had scattered, leaving only 
the chums together. 

Ned nodded his assent. “ Sure, old man, 
that’s the right idea. Your father will get 
back just as soon as he can, I know!” 


BAD NEWS OR GOOD 


19 


The disappointed boy looked gratefully at his 
friend and realized that no matter how deep 
was his hurt, it was a tiny thing compared with 
what Ned had to go through each day. For 
Ned Moseley was a cripple — one leg was gone. 
It had happened some years before, but Bob 
knew that his chum still suffered from the 
handicap fortune had imposed upon him. Not 
that Ned Moseley by word or deed showed that 
he suffered! On the contrary, his spirit was 
indomitable, and almost from the first he had 
contrived ways and means by which to overcome 
his deficiency. He had learned to do all the 
things the other boys did, played their games, 
competing with them on equal terms. He was 
a better woodsman than any of them and a 
better shot with either rifle or shotgun. Dur- 
ing a day's hunt he could cover more ground 
on his crutches than his companions could on 
their perfectly good legs. The only thing he 
feared was their sympathy. 

In the instant that Bob looked at him, all 
these things flashed through the Northern boy's 
brain and he was ashamed that he had shown 
how deeply he felt his disappointment. After 


20 


TOM WICKHAM 


all, it was a small thing when compared with 
real tragedy. So, with a little shrug, he said: 

Sure he will. Fd rather looked forward 
to our summer, that's all. But it could be a 
lot worse, Ned — suppose you and Tom weren't 
going to be here ; then I would have some reason 
to kick." 

No such chance," answered Ned a little bit- 
terly. We're here all right." 

And glad of it," Tom added. Especially 
since our bunch isn't going to be broken up. If 
Big Chris doesn't work me too hard. I'll show 
you some fun — Crossways isn't such a worse 
place in summer. You've only seen it in the 
winter, old boy ! " 

Bob choked down the obvious retort to this 
last remark. Already he had begun to realize 
what the new plan for the summer held in possi- 
bilities of sport and adventure. He decided that 
if he could be with Tom and Ned, he really 
wanted to stay at Crossways through the 


summer. 


CHAPTER II 
PLANS 

‘‘ Well, what are we going to do with our- 
selves all summer?’’ asked Ned as the insepar- 
able three lounged away their recess under the 
big locust tree. It was a day or two after the 
fateful news had come to Bob Hazard. Even 
such a short time had brought a measure of 
reconciliation to his fate. 

Oh, I reckon we’ll swim and go fishin’ and 
all the other things fellows generally do,” 
drawled Tom, who was lying on his back, 
watching the clouds drift across the blue sky. 

** Sure, we’ll do all that, but I was thinking 
that we ought to do something with an object 
to it, like building a log cabin or fixing up 
some wild turkey blinds for next winter — ” 

Here Bob interrupted: ''You mean that you 
think we will get sick of doing just what we 
want to do? Is that it, Ned?” 

21 


22 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ Yes, I reckon that’s about the size of it. 
Do you figure that way, too ? 

Well, I won’t have that trouble,” grumbled 
Tom. I had to promise my father that I’d 
work like a dog before he’d let me stay on at 
school — and I’ve got to make good. I don’t 
see where I’m going to get much time to play 
around with you two.” 

Cheer up,” Ned urged. Big Chris’s bark 
is much worse than his bite. But, seriously, 
what do you think of my idea?” 

‘‘ Good stufif,” answered Bob. Let’s build 
a canoe and paddle up the South Anna River. 
We’ll be explorers!” 

Bully ! But I suggest that a log cabin that 
we could fix up as a clubhouse would be more 
fun, because we could use it all next winter, 
and the boat wouldn’t be much use then. But 
Tom hasn’t been heard from. Haven’t you an 
idea, old boy?” 

The latter only grunted. But a moment later 
he sat up suddenly. His whole manner was 
changed. From being mildly interested and pas- 
sive, all at once, under the urge of the plan that 
had come to him, he was alive and enthusiastic. 


PLANS 23 

‘‘You bet I have!'’ he ejaculated “Let's 
make a crop of corn ! " 

The other two boys were more perplexed than 
surprised 

“ Make a crop of corn? ” echoed Bob. “ Why, 
that's work. I don't see any fun in that! '' 

“You're crazy!” was Ned's comment. 

“ Wait a moment — wait just a moment,” 
begged Tom. “ Don't go off half-cocked. It's 
a good scheme — ” 

“ Perhaps it is,” conceded Ned Moseley, 
“ but you’ll have to show me ! ” 

“ I don't mean just to go out and make an 
ordinary crop. Of course, that wouldn't be any 
sport, at all,” said Tom. “ What I want to do 
is to plant and cultivate our corn as they do at 
the State Farm. I want to show these farmers, 
including Pop, that when they throw away 
the Agricultural Department's bulletins they’re 
throwing away real money! It makes me sore 
to think that the State Farm can raise one hun- 
dred and seventy-five bushels of corn to an acre 
and that the best average we get around here 
is about twenty bushels! I’ll bet that we can 
do a lot better than that, and if we do, p’raps it 


24 


TOM WICKHAM 


will shame some of the folks into trying some- 
thing besides the farming methods they brought 
with ’em out of the Ark ! ” 

Perhaps it was the sporting element in Tom’s 
proposal, but the idea found favor with his two 
listeners. Heretofore, anything to do with farm- 
ing had been drudgery, but dressed up with the 
frills Tom had given it, the proposition seemed 
to have all the elements of a good game. Seeing 
that he had made an impression, Tom went on: 

‘‘ Besides, fellows, if we are successful, we 
will make money! Quite a lot, too, because we 
ought to be able to put in about five acres, 
amongst the three of us — ” 

I can get Brother Eddy to give us the 
land! ” said Ned, suddenly, breaking in. 

“You want to do it, then?” asked Tom. 

“You bet!” was the emphatic answer. “It 
sounds like a barrel of fun. What do you think, 
Yank? ” 

Bob Hazard let the nickname pass. When 
he had first come to Crossways School, he had 
fought half the boys over the name, for he had 
felt that it was necessary to uphold the dignity of 
the Union in this hotbed of Southerners. Hav- 


PLANS 


25 


ing had his just share of success and a like 
amount of beating, a truce with honor had taken 
place. Since then, especially from Ned and 
Tom, it had been a designation of honor. 

‘‘ Count me in. And, it may help to know 
that Dad sent me an extra amount of spending 
money. That ought to help for necessary 
expenses, fertilizer, and so forth.’’ 

‘‘You fellows are bricks!” was Tom’s com- 
ment. “ We’ll make things hum. But do you 
realize that we’ll have to start plowing at 
once ? ” 

“ Sure. But the days are getting so long 
we’ll have lots of time after school. But here’s 
a difficulty. Where will we get a team?” 

“ Let’s make Pony do a little work for his 
living,” chuckled Bob. “ Ever since Dad sent 
him down here we’ve just ridden him.” 

“ But do you remember when we tried to 
hitch him to a buggy?” objected Tom. “And 
what happened to the old buggy?” 

“ You bet I do, but it will be fun to make him 
plow. He can’t break the plow up much. 
Although he’s a Texas cow pony, it won’t hurt 
him to be useful 1 ” 


26 


TOM WICKHAM 


Ned had been thinking as the conversation 
had proceeded ‘‘ But, Tom, none of us know 
how to grow corn the new way. How are we 
going to learn ? ” 

That’s easy. We’ll write to the Department 
of Agriculture and they’ll send us all the dope 
there is on the subject. The last bulletin I saw 
said they would.” 

‘‘ I’ll write to-night, then, if you want me 
to — ” 

‘‘ The quicker the better,” was Tom’s reply. 

Ned wrote, but when a week had passed with- 
out an answer, the boys decided that they must, 
at least, get their land in order, as valuable 
time was slipping by. Plowing was the same 
operation in either modern or old-style farming, 
so special instructions would not be needed for 
that. The only thing necessary was to get the 
land to start on. 

The same day the three boys waylaid Mr. 
Moseley as he came out of the schoolhouse. 

‘‘Uncle Eddy, we want to rent some land 
from you,” said Ned Moseley. 

“ What say? You boys wanting to rent some 
land ! ” the old man exclaimed. 


PLANS 


27 


Yes, sir ! ” they chorused. 

But — but I can’t quite rightly figure for 
what purpose you want to rent** Brother Eddy 
commented. “ You have the run of the whole 
place now — ” 

‘'We know it, sir,” interrupted Bob Hazard, 
forgetting his manners, “but we are going to 
farm — and every farmer has to pay taxes or 
rent ; otherwise his profits would not be properly 
figured.” 

“You going to farm?” asked the old man, 
incredulously, remembering the lack of success 
that had met his efforts to interest these same 
boys in the regular farm activities. “ What led 
to this decision, may I ask ? ” 

Ned quickly outlined the plan they had con- 
ceived. When he had finished, his uncle nodded 
his head in approval. 

“ Yes, it’s a good idea. Excellent. It is very 
important that everyone should have some seri- 
ous occupation each day. Very important. But 
to tell the truth I don’t just know what field 
I can give you.” 

“ How about that patch at the old quarters? ” 
suggested Tom, who knew good land. This field 


28 


TOM WICKHAM 


was the most productive of any that Mr. Mose- 
ley still worked. The cabins of the slaves had 
stood there before the war. Now only one 
cabin remained to keep memory alive — and to 
store farm tools. 

‘‘ Not that piece. I am figuring on putting 
that piece in oats this year. Let me 
think. . . . ” 

A moment later Ned broke out : I have it, 

Uncle Eddy! Let us use Bear Island! You 
know you never put anything in there except a 
stand of hay and we’ll pay you enough to make 
up that loss.” 

You’re crazy, Ned. We don’t want the 
Island,” Tom objected quickly, before Mr. 
Moseley could answer. It’s the lowest field on 
the farm and every freshet that comes along 
plays the dickens with it. A good-sized thun- 
derstorm is enough to swell Little River to 
the point where it floods the Island. One deluge 
and where would our corn be?” 

‘‘Tom’s right,” said Brother Eddy. 

“ It’s not quite so bad as that,” retorted Ned. 
“ I know that the possibility of freshets makes 
it risky, but I figure that the heavy spring rains 


PLANS 


29 


will be over by the time we plant our seed corn 
and there is better than an even chance through 
the summer. Besides, the soil down there is 
so rich it will not take much fertilizer, and we 
ought to be able to raise a whopping crop! 

‘‘If you decide to take the risk, you can have 
the land, boys,’' said Mr. Moseley. “ And, come 
to think of it, I reckon it’s about the only piece 
I could let you have to experiment with this 
year. Let me know what you decide.” 

He started to walk towards the house, when 
Bob spoke. 

“ You haven’t told us what the rent will be, 
Mr. Moseley.” 

“ I don’t want anything. You can have — ” 

“ Thank you a whole lot, sir, but we’ll have 
to arrange some terms,” insisted Bob. “ Why 
not say you’ll take a part of the crop ? ” 

Brother Eddy saw how earnest they were and 
decided he must play the game. “ All right,” he 
agreed. “ I’ll take one-fifth of your crop, but 
only with the understanding that, should the 
total yield per acre be more than forty bushels, 
my maximum would still be eight bushels. Will 
that do?” 


30 


TOM WICKHAM 


Great ! ” agreed the boys. 

Ned was pleased at the way Tom and Bob 
had backed up his idea of the Island. The 
danger of freshets was only one more factor in 
the game to make it more exciting, and therefore 
more fun. 

‘‘ Bully for you ! he said as Mr. Moseley left 
them. ‘‘We can beat any old freshet that 
comes along ! 


CHAPTER HI 
DELAY 

‘‘ I don’t think much of your old Department 
of Agriculture,” said Bob Hazard peevishly. 

How long has it been since you wrote to ’em, 
Ned?” 

‘‘About ten days, I reckon. But perhaps 
they are mighty busy just now — ” 

“ Bob’s right! ” put in Tom Wickham shortly. 
“ They should have answered our letter. All 
the bulletins I’ve read said they wanted folks 
to ask for information.” 

But Ned Moseley came back to the defense 
with spirit. 

“ You fellows are in too much of a hurry, 
ni bet a pretty the Department gets a million 
letters a day and they can’t just pick ours out 
to answer right off the bat. Don’t worry; the 
answer will come along all right.” 

“ Perhaps so 1 ” This from Bob. “ But I 
31 


32 


TOM WICKHAM 


think we ought to write again and hustle 'em 
up. Don't you, Tom? " 

‘‘ Sure. Ned, you're the writer, get busy and 
tell the folks in Washington what we think of 
'em. Then, when school's out, we'll go over to 
the postoffice and mail it. Perhaps our letter 
is there waiting for us now. Then we won't 
have to mail the second one." 

They had found a chance for this talk at 
recess time and in accordance with Tom's plan, 
the early afternoon found them legging it to 
the little railroad station, which was also the 
postoffice. They chose to go by way of the 
river. This route was infinitely more exciting 
than the road. That the trail beside the river 
bank was a mile farther, worried them not at 
all. The part of the farm lying along the river 
was well known to them. Almost virgin forest, 
it held opportunities for trapping and hunting 
that no other portion of Crossways could offer. 
Here, during the winter, they had snared 
rabbits and had once almost bagged a wild 
turkey. 

As they came on the scene of each former 
exploit or adventure, it had to be discussed and 


DELAY 


33 


re-lived. Once a fresh deer track caught Ned's 
keen eye, and they turned off to follow it, 
hoping to flush the shy beast. However, after 
a half hour's exciting work, they found the 
track led back to the river and was lost, leaving 
them considerably further from their destination 
than when they first discovered it. 

At last, however, they came to the railroad 
and found the station-agent-baggageman-porter- 
postmaster sleeping peacefully in a chair tilted 
against the wall, the warm afternoon sun 
streaming into his face. He was short and 
rather fat, but had a well-known temper. 

“ Shall we wake him?" asked Ned, who was 
a bit tender hearted. 

'‘You bet!" said Bob. "Go ahead, Tom, 
shake him up." 

" Do it yourself, Yank," was the reply. " I've 
seen what sort of a look he gives Mrs. Taylor 
when she punches him awake during the sermon. 
I don't want my head taken off ! " 

Luckily, a freight train whistled down the 
track and the sound was enough to disturb the 
slumbers of Mr. Taylor. He wriggled a little 
and blinked his eyes. Before he could close 


34 TOM WICKHAM 

them again and relapse into sleep, Bob shouted: 

‘‘Hello, Mr. Taylor! Got any mail for us?'' 

This woke the postmaster. 

“Who — who be it? Oh, it's ye, is it? An' 
how's everybody over to Crossways? I reckon 
I ain't seen none of ye since last meetin’. Br'er 
Eddy well? An' Sis Elly?" 

Mr. Taylor was no exception to the usual 
rule of village postmasters. He was the local 
newspaper and he lost no opportunity for gath- 
ering news. As the boys answered his flow 
of questions, he tramped into his boxlike little 
station and opened the cupboard which was the 
postofflce. 

“ Well, well, I could 'a' taken oath there was 
a letter here for ye this morning, Ned," he 
said, as he ran through the letters. 

“Isn’t it there now?" demanded Tom, 
anxiously. 

“ No, don’t see it," was the reply. “ But sho', 
I give it to Ben Parkinson 'fore noontime. He 
said he reckoned he'd go home along by Cross- 
ways. That's what I did, I recollect now." 

It is a common thing in the outlying country 
for anyone and everyone to be pressed into 


DELAY 


35 


service as a postman. It is frequently the case 
that no one can be spared from the farm work 
to go for the mail and the neighbors are always 
willing to go out of their way in order to deliver 
a letter. 

‘‘ We’ll go back by Ben’s, then,” said Tom. 
‘‘ I reckon he stuck it in his pocket and forgot 
he had it. What do you say, fellows?” 

All right ! ” was the verdict. 

But I think we ought to send our second 
letter anyway,” added Bob. If Parkinson has 
the letter we want, it won’t hurt that this one 
is mailed, and if his letter is not from Washing- 
ton, we won’t have lost a day.” 

‘‘ That’s right too,” assented Ned. Here it 
is, Mr. Taylor. Get it off on the first train 
north, please.” 

The trio left in much better spirits than they 
had come. They kept to the road on the way 
back and finally reached Parkinson’s house, 
which was about a mile from Crossways. Ben 
Parkinson was in the barnyard. When they 
demanded the letter, he said: 

I’ve just come back from you-all’s place. I 
forgot the letter, but just as soon as I remem- 


36 TOM WICKHAM 

bered it I went over. It’s waiting for you 
over there.” 

Before the words were fairly out of the 
man’s mouth, the boys had started for home. 

Gee, it must be from Washington,” panted 
Bob. I feel sure it is ! ” 

‘‘We’ve waited long enough,” was Tom’s 
contribution. “ But it might be a letter from 
Ned’s girl. What about it, Ned?” 

“ Oh, shut up ! ” was all the reply the remark 
received. 

They burst into the house and found the letter 
lying on the horsehair sofa in the hall. Ned 
snatched it up eagerly and tore it open, the 
others waiting expectantly for his next words. 

“ Oh, shucks ! ” was the exclamation that 
brought disappointment to their ears. 
“ Shucks!” 

“Isn’t it from Washington?” 

“Not so you could notice it!” replied Ned, 
laughing. 

“ What is it, then? ” demanded Tom. 

“ Remember I wrote for that gun catalog? 
Yes? Well, they write to say they would ‘be 
pleased to fill my order if I have decided which 


DELAY 


37 


of their wonderful guns I can least do without! ’ 
I reckon that’s some come-down from what we 
expected ! ” 

They all laughed to hide the very real disap- 
pointment each felt. Somehow, not getting the 
letter they wanted seemed to take away a little 
of the enthusiasm they had worked up for their 
project. The thing ought to move fast — they 
wanted to know how they should start to work. 
The letter would tell them, they were sure, and 
it would be a solid basis on which to plan their 
campaign. After a moment’s hesitation, Tom 
Wickham broke the silence — 

‘‘ It will come to-morrow, fellows. I vote we 
don’t worry about it. Come along, now, let’s 
help Brother Eddy milk.” 

But the next day brought disappointment too. 
Someone went to the postoffice during the morn- 
ing and at recess the trio learned that no letter 
had arrived. So thick did the gloom settle 
about them that when school was out they had 
no desire to find some pleasant way of spending 
the afternoon. Until the dinner bell rang they 
sat on the fence by the schoolhouse and dis- 
cussed their rotten luck. Tom was trying to 


38 


TOM WICKHAM 


keep up their spirits as much as possible by 
brave words and was in the midst of a sentence 
when he broke off suddenly — 

“Why, who’s that? Look — a buggy is 
stopping at the front gate!” 

“ Come on ; let’s find out,” cried Bob, leading 
a dash through the front yard. They reached 
the gate before the newcomer had got out of his 
conveyance. He smiled as the boys came up. 

“This Crossways, fellows?” His pleasant 
voice was brisk. “Yes? That’s good. I’m 
John D. Elwood of the Department of 
Agriculture.” 


CHAPTER IV 


JOHN D. ELWOOD 

For a moment the boys were speechless. Then 
Ned said: 

Why — why, you must be the answer to 
my letter! ” 

John D. Elwood chuckled. 

‘‘ I am! But I hope Fll be more use than just 
a letter. I take it from your remark that you 
are Edward Moseley, Second? And these are 
the others you mentioned as prospective partners 
in your farming venture?” 

“ Yes, sir.” As he answered, Ned immedi- 
ately warmed to this young man, who had not 
by so much as a look revealed any surprise at 
finding him to be a cripple. 

''That’s fine! Fine!” Elwood repeated. 
" We can get to business right away. But I 
reckon Fd better pay my respects to your 
parents — ” 


39 


40 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ It’s not my parents, sir. The place belongs 
to my uncle. I’m named after him. Bob 
Hazard and Tom Wickham here are going to 
school to him. Come right up to the house, sir. 
I should have asked you before ! ” The inher- 
ent hospitality of the Moseleys suddenly awoke 
in the boy and he felt ashamed that he had let 
a guest discuss business before he had been 
properly welcomed. He turned to Tom. ‘‘ You 
and Bob take Mr. Elwood’s horse to the barn, 
like good chaps. Come, Mr. Elwood.” Then 
he led the way up the path to the Big House. 
When they reached the porch, Brother Eddy 
was waiting on the top step. 

‘‘ Crossways is proud to welcome you, sir.” 
This was the formula which had been used to 
greet every chance wayfarer, as well as invited 
guest, since the house was built. During the 
life of Brother Eddy’s father the dinner table 
was set each day for as many as could be 
crowded around it. Then a servant was sent to 
sit on the gate post and blow a horn to tell the 
world at large that dinner was ready and that 
all who heard should come. The hospitality of 
Crossways was mighty real. 


41 


JOHN D. ELWOOD 

The agent of the Government was installed 
before the crackling pine fire in the chamber 
before he was allowed to state the object of his 
visit. 

The chamber in a Southern house is the living 
room, the place that is used as a common meet- 
ing ground of the whole household. Usually it 
is the bedroom of the head of the family, whose 
bed in the daytime stands in one corner of the 
room. The chamber in which Elwood found 
himself was typical. Ceremoniously Mr. Mose- 
ley introduced him to his sister, a sweet-faced, 
faded lady, dressed in the styles of half a 
century ago. 

Well, sir, do we owe it to fortuitous chance,” 
Brother Eddy was saying as Bob and Tom came 
in after seeing to Mr. Elwood’s horse, ‘‘ that you 
are our guest?” 

‘‘ Not quite that, Mr. Moseley,” answered the 
young man. I came in response to a letter 
from your nephew.” 

'' I am glad, sir, that dinner will soon be 
served,” put in Miss Moseley, without reference 
to the conversation. You must be famished, 
sir, after your drive.” Sister Elly’s great mission 


42 TOM WICKHAM 

in life was to see that everyone had plenty 
to eat. 

I am, madam,’’ replied Elwood, with a smile 
that completely won the lady’s liking. And if 
I am at last to taste some of your mango pickle 
of which I’ve heard so much, my happiness will 
be complete.” 

Miss Moseley blushed delicately, and decided 
that it had been a long time since she had met 
so nice a young man. It was by the manu- 
facture and sale of the delicacy to which Elwood 
had so tactfully alluded, that Sister Elly had 
helped keep Crossways Plantation in the Moseley 
family. 

“ You shall have some, indeed,” she said, 
rising. “If you will excuse me now, I will see 
to dinner ! ” 

When the door closed behind her, Mr. Elwood 
turned to Mr. Moseley. 

“ It was the letter from your nephew stating 
that he and two other boys wanted to get all the 
information they could of our method of grow- 
ing corn, that brought me here. By our I mean 
the Government Agricultural Department, to 
which service I belong ! ” He said the last 


JOHN D. EL WOOD 43 

proudly, as if he were reporting his membership 
in a famous regiment. 

‘‘ But why did you take the trouble to come 
all the way here? Couldn’t you have written 
the boys all they wished to know ? ” 

Perhaps. But when we find that the interest 
in growing things comes from the boys them- 
selves, it is our pleasure to take any trouble to 
keep it alive and make it grow.” He turned to 
the boys, who were hanging on his every word. 

You boys are the farmers of to-morrow, and if 
we can teach you the love of the soil and the 
passion of making two blades grow where one 
grew before, we are enriching the future ! ” 
The three prospective farmers felt a new 
surge of enthusiasm flow through their veins. 
Elwood was stimulating their imaginations. 
They saw their scheme, which had been 
planned for amusement, suddenly become a 
thing of immense seriousness. But Elwood 
was continuing. 

Why, Mr. Moseley, do you know that in 
the fifty odd years since the Department was 
founded, the Government has spent nearly a 
hundred million dollars to help the farmers? 


44 


TOM WICKHAM 


And do you know that their hidebound ideas 
have almost wrecked our campaign?” 

“ Yes, sir. I find that to be the case. I 
should confess, also, that I personally have not 
given the Government the cooperation I should.” 

‘‘ I can readily understand, Mr. Moseley. You 
have had other interests besides your farm. 
But, sir, we have started on a new line, and 
the results so far are extraordinarily encour- 
aging. We have organized farming clubs of 
the boys in each state — supplied them with all 
the assistance possible and offered prizes for the 
best crops grown. By this we hope to succeed 
with the next generation, although we have 
failed with the present. Besides, there is an 
educational value to the scheme which will 
appeal to you, I feel sure. In scoring the 
results it is not the boy who grows the largest 
crop that wins, but the boy who grows the 
largest crop and writes the best account of how 
he made it! Another factor is the accounts 
that are kept of the expenditures and receipts. 
You see, in this way we hook up both reading 
and arithmetic to the practical work. What 
do you think of the plan?’’ 


45 


JOHN D. EL WOOD 

'' It is excellent. I told the lads so to-day 
when they rented a piece of ground for their 
experiment.” 

''They have gone that far? Fellows, that's 
great! We can count on you for support, then, 
Mr. Moseley?” 

" Surely, sir, surely. I think it is a very 
important work you are doing. Very impor- 
tant.” His eyes twinkled. " May I ask, sir, is 
it your intention to shame the grown-up farmers 
by having the boys make bigger crops right 
beside them?” 

Elwood laughed heartily. 

"You've hit it! And in many cases it's done 
just that — ” 

The peal of a bell rang out. Mr. Moseley 
rose. 

" Come, Mr. Elwood. That means dinner ! ” 

" Thank you, sir.” Then he spoke to the 
boys. " Well, fellows. I've been talking so 
much, you haven't had much chance to tell me 
anything, but after dinner will be your turn. 
I'll want you to show me the field you've picked 
out.” 

Always well loaded with good things, to-day 


46 


TOM WICKHAM 


the table fairly groaned under the weight of 
food Sister Elly had brought out in honor of 
the guest. She sat at one end, presiding over 
the roast of beef, and Brother Eddy at the 
other, the home-cured ham in front of him. The 
boys could not remember a meal when a_ham 
had not been on the table. It was a custom, a 
tradition. Besides, a sliver of it gave a pleasing 
contrast to Sister Elly's famous pickles. 

Mr. Elwood was helped generously to the 
latter and declared they were even better than 
the reports he had had of them. 

“ I wish I could induce you to send some as 
an exhibit to the next fair we hold," he asked 
her. ‘‘ I feel sure that they would take the 
Grand Prize — they would without a doubt, if 
I did the judging!" 

I shall think about it, sir," returned Miss 
Moseley, quite overcome, ‘‘ and if I do I hope 
you will be judge." 

When at last the meal was over, the boys 
took Mr. Elwood in charge and tramped down 
to the piece of low ground Brother Eddy had 
rented them. 

‘‘ This is Bear Island," they informed him. 


JOHN D. ELWOOD 47 

‘‘But it's not an island," exclaimed Elwood. 
“ There's no water around it 1 " 

“ There is every time a freshet comes along," 
explained Tom Wickham. “ On two sides of it 
flows the river, and a deep gully bounds it on 
the shore side. This gully fills up even after a 
hard shower. That's why we have to keep this 
little bridge we're now passing over." 

“ How did it happen to be called Bear 
Island? " the man wanted to know. 

“ Oh, that was a long time ago. During a 
very heavy storm the flood waters drove a bear 
out of the swamps and it took refuge here. 
Brother Eddy's — I mean Mr. Moseley's — 
grandfather happened along and got a great 
scare, as bears were very seldom seen in this 
part of the country. He went back to the 
house for his gun, but when he reappeared 
Brother Bear had moved. There was so much 
argument as to whether Mr. Moseley had really 
seen a bear or not, that the name stuck ! " 

Elwood laughed. “ That's as good a way as 
any to get a name; and the name will have 
nothing to do with the crop of corn." He 
looked the place over carefully and then went 


48 


TOM WICKHAM 


on: ‘‘You chaps ought to make a bully crop 
here if the soil is as fertile as it seems to be. 
What was planted here before? Looks to me 
like clover and timothy hay.’’ 

“ Yes, sir. Last year Uncle Eddy put it into 
clover and made a whopping crop. The year 
before he tried alfalfa, but a freshet ruined it, 
so he turned it under before planting the clover.” 
It was Ned who made the explanation. 

“That’s great. Couldn’t be better prepara- 
tion for a corn crop. Every field should be 
planted in clover, alfalfa, cowpeas, or some- 
thing like that, the year before corn is tried, as 
the soil gets tired of growing the same thing 
year after year. It exhausts the ground of the 
chemicals which planting other crops will 
renew.” 

“Sort of a self-fertilizing scheme, isn’t it?” 
asked Tom. 

“ Exactly. And much more valuable than 
artificial fertilizing. The best plan is a care- 
fully worked-out schedule of the different crops 
a field should bear. We call this ‘ rotation of 
crops ’ and while we know in a general way 
what rotation is desirable, each farmer must use 


49 


JOHN D. EL WOOD 

his discretion about applying it to his fields. 
Different soils are as different as human beings 
and must be given only the things which will 
agree with them. A crop whose roots dig deep 
should alternate with one whose roots spread, 
and a crop that consumes a large amount of 
nitrogen should follow a crop that uses a lot of 
potash. The best results, as far as corn is con- 
cerned, are obtained when corn is planted no 
oftener than every fourth year, preceded, as I 
have just said, by a crop of alfalfa or clover, 
which will restore the necessary nitrogen to the 
ground. But, anyway, your ground is in the 
best possible shape, so you won’t have to worry 
about that. I would, however, give the ground 
a dressing with manure just before planting 
your seed. Don’t be afraid of putting it on too 
thick; the field will stand it. It is much more 
valuable, with the present condition of the soil, 
than the manufactured fertilizer you buy.” 

‘‘When should we start work?” Bob wanted 
to know. 

“ Right away ; the sooner the better. Get 
what manure you can and then plow. But what 
about seed corn? Have you any?” 


50 


TOM WICKHAM 


No/’ answered Tom. ‘‘ Dad just picks out 
the best looking ears for his. But I know that 
is not the right way, because a bulletin Tve got 
at the house says that kernels from each ear 
should be tested.” 

You are quite right,” returned the farm 
expert. Unfortunately it’s too late now for 
you to do it. I’m going to send you enough 
tested seed from the State Farm to plant this 
patch. Next year, however, you must select 
your own.” 

‘‘But how is it done?” asked Tom, deeply 
interested. 

“ It is a long process and the books I’ll send 
you will give it to you in detail. Now, I’ll just 
sketch it out to you briefly. It’s one of the most 
interesting things we have to do.” 

“ Go ahead ! ” encouraged the boys. “ And 
don’t be too brief,” added Tom. 

“ All right, then. The time to select the ears 
you will get your seed from is just after the ear 
is fully developed and when the kernel is only 
beginning to get hard. The corn is still stand- 
ing, of course, and the leaves and stalk are yet 
green. We have learned that perfect ears taken 


JOHN D. ELWOOD 51 

from a hill out of which three stalks have 
matured are better than ears from a single stalk. 
This shows that the corn was hardier, that it 
was able to compete in the struggle for life and 
still succeed. The seed from these ears is more 
valuable than from the ear which has grown on 
a single stalk. The latter had nothing to impede 
its growth and the seed is likely to be lazy.” 

‘‘Gee!” ejaculated Tom, “corn is just like 
folks!” 

“ More so than many people think,” returned 
Mr. Elwood, smiling. “ But, to go on: Usually 
the kernels from fifteen ears are sufficient to 
plant an acre of corn — but you had better 
count twenty to allow for seed that is not fertile. 
After you have collected a sufficient number of 
ears to plant the area you plan for next year, 
the problem is to care for it during the winter 
months. A matter of great importance is that 
this seed corn should dry out evenly and thor- 
oughly, and only second to this is to keep it 
from the invasion of rats.” 

“ ril bet you found a way,” Bob said. 

“ We did, and it’s not expensive either. It’s 
done by stringing the ears together, one below 


52 


TOM WICKHAM 


the other, and hanging them from the roof of 
the barn. That overcomes both of our difficul- 
ties. This is the way.” And with a stick he 
scratched a rough diagram on the ground. 

This keeps the ears from touching and 
allows the air to circulate freely. It is the best 
scheme weVe hit on so far.” 

‘‘ The farmers 'round here just throw the best 
looking ears in a bin any old which way,” said 
Tom. 

And they make about twenty-five bushels to 
the acre, don't they ? ” 

‘‘ Yes — sometimes ! ” 

‘‘ That's one reason for it, then. . . . Now, 
suppose we've brought our seed corn through the 
winter safely and it's only a few weeks to 
planting time. The thing to find out now is 
which of our ears are fertile and which are 
not. This is the real testing of the seed and 
marks the greatest single advance that has been 
made in the cultivation of corn. We call it 
germinating the seed. 

‘‘You should make a box four feet square 
and about six inches deep. Then drive tacks 
in the edges at intervals of four inches. Take 


53 


JOHN D. ELWOOD 

a ball of string and connect the tacks, so that 
you have divided up the box into one hundred 
and forty-four squares — like this — Again 
Mr. Elwood had recourse to the ground as a 
sketching block. 

'' Now, from the first ear to be tested, take 
six kernels, being sure to select them from dif- 
ferent parts of the ear. Put these in the square 
numbered one, after having covered the bottom 
of the box with an inch of sand. Lay the ear 
aside, marking it No. 1, to correspond with 
the square in the box, and so you will know it 
again. Do the same with the remaining ears 
until you have your box full. 

The next thing is to cover the seeds in the 
box with about three inches of sand. Moisten 
this thoroughly and put the box in a warm 
place. Keep it well moistened, and by the sixth 
day you will be ready to make your examina- 
tion. On that day the fertile seed should have 
sent out sprouts, which should have attained a 
growth of from three to six inches, and each 
ear will be represented in its own square. 

Some will have six hardy shoots — you can 
safely use that ear. Others will have only four 


54 TOM WICKHAM 

or five and some of them won’t have sprouted 
at all.” 

“ It will be a simple matter then to pick out 
the strongest and best ears,” put in Tom. You 
just select the ear that has the same number as 
the square in the box and keep it for seed if it 
has sprouted well.” 

‘‘ Exactly ! ” agreed the Government agent. 

And that’s all there is to testing seed corn. 
When I tell you that the farmers could increase 
their yield per acre by at least five bushels by 
doing this, even if they did not change their old 
methods a bit further, wouldn’t you think they 
would take the trouble?” 

“You bet! But they don’t,” returned Tom. 
“ They don’t do anything! ” 

“ They will in the future, though,” said Mr. 
Elwood, “because boys like you are going to 
show them what can be done if only a little 
trouble is taken. But let’s go on with the imme- 
diate problem. I’m going to send you seed, so 
the next thing is the planting. I’d advise you 
to do it by hand, because it is much surer, 
although more work.” 

“ We don’t mind work,” asserted Ned stoutly. 


JOHN D. EL WOOD 55 

It's not a picnic, exactly, even on a bare five 
acres," said Elwood, with a smile. 

‘‘ I know it isn't," chuckled Tom. ‘‘ That was 
my job before Pop bought a horse planter." 

I guess you do, then," returned Mr. Elwood, 
joining in the general laugh. ‘‘ But let me tell 
you about planting. Make your hills about three 
and a half feet apart and each row that same 
distance from its neighbor. Plant five ker- 
nels to the hill, taking care that each seed is 
separated from the others. This will give 
enough room to each stalk." 

‘‘ Yes, sir, and when do we start to thin it 
out? You don't let all five stalks grow, do 
you? " 

No, not more than three ought to mature. 
Start to thin the weaker shoots when they are 
from six to eight inches above the ground. 
If you do it with a hoe, be sure you cut 
the stalk underground. It will grow again if 
you don't. Pulling it by hand is harder work, 
but it's lots surer — then you get roots and all." 

As they were talking they moved over to the 
bank by which t&e river ran. Mr. Elwood 
looked at it a monient and then said: 


56 


TOM WICKHAM 


You fellows have every opportunity to make 
a whopping fine crop. Your ground is right 
and the seed Fll send you will be good. But 
you are taking a big chance that this river will 
rise and flood the island and with it all your 
hard work, for once the river has flooded your 
growing crop, it's ruined. The banks are very 
low." 

“ We've thought of all that," said Ned earn- 
estly, and we think it's worth the risk. Any- 
way, it's the only piece of land we can get." 

‘‘ Well, if that's the case, all I can say is 
' Good luck to you ! ' Of course, I think your 
chances are as good as even that no freshet will 
come along. But should one come along before 
you have planted, it will be worth money to 
you, for the new earth it brings is rich and is 
almost as good as fertilizer. But I understand 
there have been years when there has been no 
trouble? " 

“ Yes. Last year was one, and two years 
before that was another." 

Don't worry, then," advised Mr. Elwood. 
** Work hard and you won't have time to bother 
about it. You'll see if I’m not right. Well, 


57 


JOHN D. ELWOOD 

then, I guess Fve told you all I can now. Fll 
send you the seed and as many helpful books as 
possible.'' 

‘'That will be fine," Tom said. "And — and 
if we have luck and do well, are there any prizes 
that we have a chance at?" 

"You bet there are! There will be a blank 
for you to fill out showing how you raised your 
crop, how much it cost, and how much profit 
you made. When this is filed at Washington, it 
becomes the basis on which the prizes are 
given." 

"We are going to do our best to win," 
asserted Bob Hazard. 

" I know you will," returned the man. " It's 
the boys of to-day, like you, who, just because 
they try hard enough, are going to show what 
real progress can be made in farming!" 

When Mr. Elwood drove away late in the 
afternoon he left the boys more enthusiastic than 
ever about their project. 


CHAPTER V 

A SURPRISE — AND WHAT IT LED TO 

But the boys did not start work as soon as 
they had planned. The day after Mr. Elwood 
had left it began to rain. For three days it 
poured and the only comfort they got out of it 
was summed up in Bob's remark: 

‘‘ I guess there can't be very much more up 
there by now, fellows. P'raps we'll be safe for 
the rest of the year ! " 

After school, the afternoon of the third day, 
when the sky showed some signs of clearing, 
the boys went down to what they already 
referred to as their Farm." It was a discour- 
aging outlook, for all they could see was an 
expanse of reddish-yellow water with a few dis- 
consolate trees holding their branches above the 
flood, like women crossing a mud puddle. 

^‘Shucks," exploded Tom, it's all right. 
This little flood is worth dollars to us — Mr. 

58 


A SURPRISE 59 

Elwood said so! It will leave a deposit of rich 
earth that is the best of fertilizers/’ 

‘‘ Sure — sure,” Ned and Bob confirmed, 
eager to buck up their failing spirits. 

But it looks pretty punk right now, all 
right,” added Bob, doubtfully. 

Cheer up, cheer up, old boy. It’s better to 
have it now than after we’d plowed it all. . . . 
The only thing that worries me is that we can’t 
work for a week, even if the rain stops to-night. 
The river won’t go down until then. What shall 
we do in the meantime?” It was Ned who 
spoke. 

Well,” said Bob, ‘‘ Pony needs breaking in 
to a plow. Suppose we try him out in Brother 
Eddy’s garden? It needs plowing, and it’s so 
well drained that the ground will be ready by 
to-morrow afternoon.” 

Righto ! That will be sport and we won’t 
lose any time fooling with that li’l’ horse when 
we can start down here. Come on, let’s go back 
to the house.” 

During the following week Pony did learn 
to plow and the kitchen garden was broken up, 
but both looked rather the worse for it. Pony 


60 


TOM WICKHAM 


— a cay use from Texas, who had never allowed 
anything but a saddle and rider near him — 
wore a deep look of hurt and humiliation. The 
garden was as much plowed by flying hoofs as 
by the plowshare. It took a disc harrow and 
the solemn team of grays to make it look 
respectable. 

But one day Pony got a respite. The mail 
brought notice that a shipment of freight 
awaited Bob Hazard at Doswell, the nearest 
freight station. A few minutes after, Pony 
was loping along with Bob on his back to find 
out what it was all about. An hour or so 
later he brought Bob back. The boy’s face was 
glowing and his eyes sparkled. 

What was it? ” Ned demanded. Out with 
it at once ! ” 

But Bob would not tell. '' It’s a surprise and 
it will be here to-morrow,” was all Ned could 
get from him. ‘‘ Besides, I want Tom to be 
on hand, too, when it comes.” 

The next morning, while the boys were in 
school, a two-horse wagon deposited a strange 
load down by the river that ran through the 
low-ground pasture. When recess came, Bob 


A SURPRISE 


61 


led the way down the hill, followed by his two 
chums. When they came in sight of the 
unwieldy box, Ned shouted: 

‘‘Oh! A canoe!’’ 

“ Gee whiz, that’s great for you. Bob,” said 
Tom Wickham, a little enviously. It was hard 
for him not to be, for life had not given him 
much in the way of luxuries. 

Bob stopped short and turned on his friend. 

“Look here, Tom; don’t go wrong on this. 
Dad sent this down as a present to you and 
Ned. It isn’t mine at all. I can’t get in it 
even, without your permission.” 

“ Ours ! ” exclaimed the other two in chorus, 
scarcely believing their ears. “ Why should he 
send it to us ? ” 

“ Because I’ve often written him of you and 
the things you’ve done to show me a good time 
here. He knew that we wanted a canoe and he 
thought perhaps it was the best way he could 
show his gratitude. But we’re wasting time 
talking. Let’s uncrate it ! ” 

He had brought along an axe, so it was not 
many minutes before the graceful canvas craft 
was lying exposed in the sun. 


62 


TOM WICKHAM 


Great day in the morning, but it's a peach ! " 
was Ned's heart-felt comment. 

“ And to think it's ours," added Tom. ‘‘ But 
while you are here, Bob, it ought to be yours! " 

‘‘ I guess not ! " was the emphatic reply. ‘‘ I'm 
going to be a passenger and only come when 
I'm invited." 

They all laughed. Then, ‘‘ Let's try it," 
suggested Tom. 

“ Can't. Recess is about over and you know 
what Brother Eddy would say if we were late," 
objected Ned. 

‘‘ To-morrow's Saturday, fellows. Let's wait 
until then and take a long trip," was Bob's 
advice. ‘‘ The river is still up and we can cruise 
all over creation." 

“Suits us. To-morrow it is!" 

Luckily, nothing happened to interfere with 
this plan. The rain had upset Big Chris Wick- 
ham's plowing, so Tom was free to make the 
first voyage in the ''Hazard'* 

He and Ned had so christened the canoe, not 
in honor of Bob, they were careful to tell him, 
but in honor of his father. Besides, they 
expected many adventures to come from its 


A SURPRISE 63 

possession, and the name was therefore 
appropriate. 

The river was still out of its banks, but it 
had receded enough so the current was not too 
swift to navigate. Bob was the only one who 
knew anything about paddling, so when they 
started he had the stern paddle. But boys do 
not take long to get the knack of doing things 
they want to do, and before they had gone very 
far both Ned and Tom were able to give a 
good account of themselves. 

Down Little River they paddled, the current 
helping them greatly. The flood water made 
the going easier than it would be ordinarily, as 
it lifted them over many of the jams of tree 
trunks and driftwood that encumbered the 
stream when it was within its banks. 

When they reached the fork where Little 
River flowed into the South Anna, this juncture 
making Bear Island, Tom exclaimed: 

‘‘ Say, fellows, we're right over our farm ! 
About three feet under us is the field on which 
we will grow the biggest crop of corn Hanover 
County ever^ saw ! " 

''It doesn't look now as if we would ever 


64 


TOM WICKHAM 


grow anything but a crop of crawfish ! Ned 
answered dryly. 

But the coming of the Hazard had cheered 
up the trio immensely and their good spirits 
could not be dampened even by the large amount 
of surplus water that had swamped their field. 

'‘Which way shall we go now?’’ Tom asked. 

" I think we ought to go upstream,” was Bob’s 
counsel. " If we buck the current now it will be 
easy coming back. We’ll have to paddle against 
the current from this point back to the pasture 
anyway.” 

" Right you are, Captain,” agreed Ned and 
swung the light craft up the South Anna. 

After they had gone a mile or two, they 
struck country which was beyond the limit their 
explorations on foot had ever taken them. They 
felt the thrill of all explorers, exclaiming over 
a queer tree formation, feeling important when 
a new view was discovered. Livingston, Scott, 
even Columbus himself, never experienced more 
intense emotion than did the trio when a fork 
of the river disclosed an unexpected branch 
leading to the right. Instinctively the canoe 
was headed that way. 


A SURPRISE 


65 


Keep quiet, men ! ” whispered Bob. Not 
a sound from your paddles. They are on the 
watch ! 

The others fell eagerly into the game. Along 
they went as stealthily as possible, darting from 
bank to bank, brushing under the half submerged 
trees. 

At that moment each boy knew that the woods 
were full of hostile Indians, and that the slight- 
est noise on their part would mean instant death. 
They were scouts, returning to civilization after 
a long trip. It was all real to them; it was 
playing the game as it should be played. 

Ned Moseley was in the bow. As they turned 
a bend he held up his hand suddenly and began 
to back water. 

Ssh-sh ! ” he warned in an excited whisper. 

We are right on their camp. We must 
reconnoiter ! ’’ 

They pulled the canoe to the shore and dis- 
embarked. Then, crawling across the point of 
land, they saw what Ned had discovered. 

On the opposite bank a cliff of rock went up 
perhaps fifty feet and at its base there was an 
opening which seemed to be that of a cave. 


66 


TOM WICKHAM 


Drawn up on the bank was a dugout canoe with 
one paddle in it. A half-dead fire still smoked 
lazily and from the branch of a tree a flannel 
shirt was hung. 

Let’s get out of this and talk it over. It 
looks mighty funny to me ! ” whispered Bob. 
The others followed him to the canoe. Once 
aboard they let it drift with the current until 
they felt sure they could not be heard from the 
cave. 

'‘What was your idea in coming away?” 
demanded Tom of Bob. " We could talk it 
over all day and still we’d simply have to go 
back to the cave to find out what’s up. So why 
didn’t we just go to the cave and find out while 
we were there ! ” 

" But supposing the man didn’t want to see 
us?” returned Bob. 

“What difference does that make? And he 
couldn’t eat us, could he? Probably it’s some 
hunter or a hobo! It looks to me that we 
haven’t much spunk — to run before we’re 
hurt!” 

“ Hunting season’s over,” said Ned, “ and it’s 
too far from the railroad for a tramp. It seems 



‘‘Ssh-sh ! ” Bob warned in an excited whis- 
per. “We are right on their camp!” 



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A SURPRISE 


67 


to me that the mysterious man is just as likely 
to be an escaped criminal as anything else ! ’’ 

If he iSj' said Tom, the romance of this 
explanation appealing to him instantly, ‘‘then 
we had the right hunch when we left so sud- 
denly. If he knew that his hiding place was 
discovered, he would beat it before we could get 
the sheriff here ! 

“ But why get the sheriff? ’’ Ned asked. “ The 
three of us ought to be able to capture him 
without help — 

“ And we wouldn’t have to divide the reward 
with anybody ! ” Bob Hazard finished the sen- 
tence for him. “ If he is a criminal, there is 
sure to be a reward ! ” 

“ We can do it,” Tom asserted. “ We’ll leave 
the sheriff out of it and use a little strategy in 
his place. The man probably has a gun, so we’ll 
have to surprise him — but we’ll plan it all out 
later.” 

Surprised, Ned asked: “Why don’t we go 
back now?” 

“ He’s not going to move.” Tom’s tone was 
assured. “ He doesn’t know anybody’s found 
his den, so he’ll stay there until we come to 


68 


TOM WICKHAM 


get him. But he isn't there now, or we'd have 
seen him. We've got to frame up a scheme, 
and there's no reason why another day isn't as 
good as this for carrying it out." 

As there was no logical answer to this, they 
paddled their way home. On the way they 
talked over their adventure from every angle, 
and the more they talked the more exciting the 
thing seemed. 

It was almost dusk when they got back to 
their starting point. After the canoe had been 
brought up and housed for the night, Ned 
made a discovery. 

'' Fellows, that mysterious man has made us 
forget to eat our grub ! " 

Simultaneously pangs of hunger assailed each 
boy. They sat down right there and did justice 
to the lunches they had brought along. They 
were taking no chances that supper would not be 
waiting for them at the house. 


CHAPTER VI 

BEAR ISLAND AND BIG CHRIS 


Before he left, Mr. Elwood had impressed 
upon them the importance of spreading natural 
fertilizer gn the land before the ground was 
broken. The letter of instructions which he 
sent after he left Crossways also advised it. 
Tom found out that Big Chris had only as much 
as he could use himself, and there was none in 
the neighborhood for sale. But Ned had an 
idea, and without further ado put it into effect. 
Meeting his uncle coming from breakfast one 
morning, he stopped him. 

‘‘ Uncle Eddy, the cow pen ought to be cleaned 
out, don’t you think? When I was milking this 
morning I noticed — ” 

‘‘ Yes — you’re quite right,” was Mr. Mose- 
ley’s rejoinder. ‘‘ It is very important that it 
should be attended to, very important; but I 
certainly can’t see just how. The teams are all 
needed on the Mill Forty.” 

69 


70 


TOM WICKHAM 


Could — could we have the manure if — if 
we cleaned out the cow pen?'’ Ned stammered 
in his eagerness. 

For a long moment the decision lay in the 
balance. Brother Eddy knew that he could use 
his natural fertilizer to great advantage himself, 
yet it would be some time before he could move 
it. But what really won the day for Ned was 
the latter’s eagerness. Brother Eddy lavished 
a great affection on his orphaned nephew and, as 
a soldier, appreciated the lad’s bravery. He 
decided to let the boys have what they wanted, 
yet he chose his words carefully in order that 
Ned should not suspect he had been swayed by 
other than economical motives. 

^‘All right, Edward, it’s yours if you think 
it’s a fair exchange. Perhaps I should pay 
something besides.” 

‘‘No — no!” exclaimed Ned. “Thank you! 
And — can we borrow the light wagon? The 
cart’s too heavy for Pony.” 

As the boy swung off on his crutches to tell 
his chums of their windfall. Brother Eddy 
looked after him and smiled tenderly. 

But when they had cleaned the cow pen of its 


BEAR ISLAND 71 

fertilizer, the boys found that it did not cover 
the field very thickly. 

“ I reckon it will have to do,’' observed Tom, 
as the last load was dumped. 

'Specially as we can't get any more," 
laughed Bob. But this will help. Now for 
plowing." 

It took two of them to plow with Pony. 
Usually one person can handle a team and a 
plow, but in this instance it was different. 

The little horse had become somewhat used 
to doing what was expected of him, but every 
now and then a sense of the grievous insult that 
was being put upon him would stir his Texan 
indignation and a pretty little exhibition of buck 
jumping would take place. After peace had 
been restored, the land in the near vicinity would 
look as if a forty-two centimeter shell had just 
exploded. 

But a means of combating this had been 
found. Bob discovered that Pony would behave 
much better if a saddle were strapped to his 
back, as well as the collar and traces. Also, as 
soon as the little horse showed signs of disturb- 
ance, if someone would climb in the saddle for 


72 


TOM WICKHAM 


a time it would restore to some degree Pony’s 
self-respect. Accordingly, one boy would man 
the plow and the other drive Pony, ready to 
leap into the saddle at a moment’s notice. 

Most of the time Tom and Bob would do the 
plowing, for, while Ned could follow and guide 
a plow in spite of his crutches, it was a little 
too much for him on a long stretch. Ned, how- 
ever, was a wonderful hand with a grubbing 
hoe and he attacked the sassafras bushes and 
scrub pine that had encroached on the field. 

The river had gone down so rapidly that they 
had not been able to go back up the river and 
carry out their design of capturing the man of 
the cave, as plowing took all their spare time. 
The venture was, however, their chief topic of 
conversation when they were alone, and a thou- 
sand plans for accomplishing their purpose had 
been suggested and rejected. They had kept 
their own counsel and no one suspected that they 
were harboring a secret. 

The delay was vexatious, but they comforted 
themselves with the fact that the dugout canoe 
must have meant that their quarry had been in 
his present hiding place for a long time. A 


BEAR ISLAND 


73 


dugout is not made in a day. Therefore, it 
seemed likely he would stay where he was until 
they got their crop planted. At any rate they 
decided that they would have to take this chance. 

When the plowing was done, the boys hired 
Brother Eddy’s team of grays and the disc har- 
row for a day. After this machine had gone 
over the island twice, the ground was as soft 
as a feather bed. 

I hope it doesn’t rain before we can get our 
seed in,” said Tom. We’d have to harrow it 
again if that happened.” 

‘‘ Cheer up ; it won’t,” Ned said with a smile. 
‘‘ Luck’s with us, don’t forget that ! ” 

‘‘ A lot luck has to do with it,” growled Tom, 
who was tired, yet he had to smile at Ned’s 
unfailing good nature. 

Where’s the seed Mr. Elwood sent us, 
Ned?” asked Bob. ‘'At the house?” 

“ Yes, and it’s just as well, for we couldn’t 
do much more this evening. It’s almost dusk 
now.” 

“ We’ll get at it early in the morning.” 

The job of planting the seed was as hard 
work, or even harder, than Mr. Elwood had 


74 TOM WICKHAM 

led them to believe. In the first place, they 
found it was something of a job to lay out the 
hills on the measurements suggested by the farm 
expert, but at last Bob Hazard, with the aid of 
a fish line, solved the problem. 

“ The rows should be three feet six inches 
apart,’’ stated Ned, who had learned Mr. 
Elwood’s instructions by heart, “ and each hill 
the same distance from the next one. By this 
method we can cultivate the corn both ways — 
along the rows and across them ! ” 

'' Right you are,” returned Bob, “ that’s what 
I’ve done. Let’s finish the measurements and 
then we can put the seed in.” 

This did not take long after they got the 
hang of it. Then Bob and Tom each took a 
row and planted the kernels by hand, five to a 
hill, leaving an inch or so of space between 
them. Ned followed with a hoe and carefully 
covered the seeds with loose earth. As he 
worked he sang a negro corn planting song : 

One for the blackbird, 

One for the crow, 

One for the cutworm, 

And two for to grow ! ” 


BEAR ISLAND 75 

He kept up the refrain until Bob Hazard 
could stand it no longer. 

For the love of Mike, change your tune ! ” 
he shouted. No crow is going to have any of 
this.’’ 

Keep your shirt on, old man,” returned 
Ned. '' Before you get through this field you 
won’t care if I sing or cry. Here, hoe a while, 
and I’ll drop some.” 

By changing jobs in this way some measure 
of relief was obtained, but it was an exhausted 
trio that tumbled into bed that night, a little 
over half the field planted. 

The following morning found them back on 
the job, however, and by late afternoon the job 
was finished. 

''Whew!” whistled Tom, straightening up, 
" I’ll never get this crick out of my back ! ” 

"I’m sure glad this much is done ! ” exclaimed 
Ned wearily, resting on the handle of his hoe. 

Bob sighed his assent, as he looked over their 
five acres, now all planted. It was good to see 
and good to know that they had not faltered 
until the last kernel was dropped. 

" Some job we took on, boys,” he commented. 


76 


TOM WICKHAM 


'' You said something then/’ Tom Wickham 
ejaculated, as he joined them. And it’s going 
to be some more job before we get done with it. 
It’s good fun, though, isn’t it?” 

‘‘For one. I’m mighty glad we took it on,” 
said Bob. “ We’ll show these old mossbacks — ” 
He was interrupted by a hearty roar of deri- 
sion. The boys turned to find Big Chris, Tom’s 
father, splitting his sides with laughter. 

“ Ho-ho ! ” he roared. “ So ye young limbs 
be goin’ to show us mossbacks how to farm! 
Ho-ho! Why, ye idjits, if ye stick to it that 
long, ye’ll be mighty spry to harvest five bushel 
an acre.” Suddenly his mood changed. He 
became grave, almost vindictive. “ Coin’ to 
learn how to farm out o’ a book — why don’t 
ye put spectacles on the little boss so’s he kin 
plow a straight furrer ? I saw the f urrers afore 
ye harrered — they was as straight as a rail 
fence, pretty nigh. But I don’t hold none with 
this here stunt. Seems like it’s ’most disrespect- 
ful to me. You, Tom, are you figgerin’ to show 
up your Pop as a mossback? Answer me, sir! ” 
Tom did not know what to say. If he told 
the truth. Big Chris was capable of forbidding 


BEAR ISLAND 


77 


him to have anything more to do with the 
experiment. If he lied — but he couldn’t lie. 
He kept still and said nothing. However, Ned 
stepped into the breach. 

‘‘ No, sir,” he began, we are not trying to 
make fun of you. What we are trying to do 
is to show you that more corn can be grown 
to the acre than is being grown now.” Ned 
hurried along, seeing by Big Chris’s face that 
the storm was about to break. “And we’re 
going to do it. We’re going to raise not less 
than a hundred bushels an acre right here this 
season! ” 

“What?” bellowed the old farmer, his rage 
diverted for the moment by this staggering 
assertion. “A hundred bushels? I never did 
better’n fifty in my life. It can’t be done!” 
His excitement was getting away with him. 
“ Why — why, ye young limbs, ye can’t do it, 
I say!” 

“ We will, all the same,” put in Bob. 

The older man’s fury was intense. He lifted 
his clenched fists in the air. “ If — if ’tweren’t 
that I be an elder in the church. I’d bet with ye, 
danged if I wouldn’t! I — I won’t bet, but if 


78 


TOM WICKHAM 


ye crop what ye said, Fll — Til go to one o’ 
them agricult’ral schools come winter, dang me 
if I won’t ! And — and if ye don’t — you Tom, 
ye won’t never go inside a schoolin’ house 
again. Ye hear me? ” 

With this the huge farmer strode across the 
edge of the field and disappeared in the gather- 
ing dusk. 


CHAPTER VII 
THE ATTACK 

The only effect that Big Chris’s outburst had 
was to fire the boys with a keener determination 
to succeed. 

I tell you,” said Tom, things have got to 
come right for us, because Fm certainly going 
to keep on at school! It will be easier if Pop 
approves, but even if he doesn’t I’ll not let that 
stop me. I’ll earn my own way if necessary.” 

That’s the talk ! ” Bob backed him up. 

You’ll get there all right.” 

Ned snickered. 

What’s so all-fired funny? ” demanded Tom. 

Won’t it sure be funny to see Big Chris 
going to school ? ” 

I don’t think it will be funny,” was the 
answer. It will look pretty good to me ! And 
to see it, we’ll just have to make Bear Island 
bring us more’n a hundred bushels an acre.” 

79 


80 


TOM WICKHAM 


It will, don't worry about that'* Bob's 
voice was confident. ‘‘ But there isn't anything 
more that we can do right now, is there?" 

No," returned Tom, whose knowledge of 
practical farming came in handy at times, 
there's nothing to do until our seed comes up. 
Then we must thin out the weaker shoots, leav- 
ing only the strongest. After that we will have 
to cultivate it over and over again. Why did 
you ask? " 

'' Because I thought it might be a good time 
to try to catch the man up at the cave." 

That's a good plan," put in Ned Moseley. 
‘‘ We've left him alone a long time now — I 
hope he hasn't flown the coop ! " 

Tom thought a moment and then said: 

I've been thinking quite a lot about that 
stunt up at the cave, fellows, and the more I 
think of it, the crazier the thing seems." 

“What do you mean?" demanded Bob. 

“ Well, how do we know the man is a 
jailbird? " 

“ More likely that than anything else," 
defended Ned, who had thought of the escaped 
criminal explanation first. “ And if he is. 


THE ATTACK 81 

there's almost sure to be a reward for his 
capture." 

“ But we're not sure about the reward," per- 
sisted Tom, “ and if we monkey with an innocent 
man, we're likely to get in a peck of trouble." 

All right, then," said Ned disgustedly. 

Let's give it up and go paddling down the 
river. Perhaps we'll see a mud turtle or two — 
and we can call that an adventure. What's the 
use of an adventure, anyway, if you don't take 
a chance?" he finished heatedly. 

'' Keep your shirt on, old boy," Tom said, 
patting his irate friend on the shoulder. I've 
meant to go all the time, but I just wanted all 
of us to understand what we're tackling. If 
we're going just for a lark and are willing for 
the man up there to have the joke on us if he 
turns out to be harmless, all right." 

‘‘That suits me. How about you. Bob?" 

“Right! When shall we go, Tom?" 

“ Friday afternoon. We'll tell the folks that 
we're going to camp out overnight. Probably 
we'll need two days for the job." 

Tom Wickham spoke authoritatively. Little 
by little, as the boys had been welded closer 


82 


TOM WICKHAM 


together by their common interests, he had 
assumed the leadership by right of that strange 
law which gives to one person in any selected 
group the ability to command. Perhaps it was 
so because the idea of the farm had originated 
with him, perhaps because he was the strongest 
and sturdiest, but mostly it was because his was 
the personality of leadership. The other two 
boys realized what had happened, yet, so grad- 
ually had the change been made, that it was an 
established fact before they made any kick. 
Now it was too late and, to tell the truth, they 
were satisfied the way things were. 

Then Tom took up the task of getting the 
expedition’s plans in order. 

We will have to try to overpower our man, 
guilty or innocent, I reckon, if we are going to 
tackle the stunt at all, and it seems to me that 
there is only one possible plan to follow.” 

'' Let’s have it ! ” demanded Bob. 

Well, it’s this, then: I believe when we get 
up there we will have to lie quiet until our man 
goes away from his cave. Then we must get 
inside and wait until he returns.” 

And we’ll nab him as he sticks his head into 


THE ATTACK 


83 


the cave ! finished Ned. That sounds good 
to me — it’s much better than any of the things 
we’ve talked over.” 

I believe it will work,” was Bob’s contribu- 
tion. It seems a simple enough scheme. I’m 
for it — strong.” 

All right, then, that’s settled,” Tom con- 
cluded the conference. Be ready to start right 
after school Friday. We ought to be there 
before dark. Bring some food and a blanket 
apiece. I’ll get a length of rope to tie up our 
prisoner — in case we get him!” 

As arranged, the expedition started on Friday 
afternoon. The boys stowed away their luggage 
on the Hazard and paddled up the South Anna. 
Since they had begun to work on their farm 
they had moored the canoe at Bear Island, where 
it would be handy. It was still a good hour 
before sunset when they located the beginning 
of the stream they sought. Strangely enough, 
the freshet had mixed up the geography of the 
place so much that it was almost a mile from 
the point they had entered it on the flood water, 
and it turned out to be more of a swamp than a 
stream. It wound in curves, almost doubling 


84 


TOM WICKHAM 


on itself, and many precious moments of light 
were wasted before they located the cliff of rock 
which marked the abiding place of their quarry. 

As soon as it was in sight they advanced 
cautiously, pulling their craft along by the 
bushes and trees, rather than paddling. At the 
first hint of dry land they left the canoe, con- 
cealing it as much as possible by the under- 
brush. Then, with great caution, they went 
forward until they found a point from which 
they could observe all that went on at the cave. 

He’s still there,” whispered Ned, ‘‘ for 
there’s his dugout. That means he must be 
home; I bet it will be a long wait for us.” 

It was. But it was not long before they had 
something to look at besides the quiet landscape, 
for presently a figure emerged from the cave, 
stretching luxuriously, as if having just awak- 
ened from a nap. 

Great day ! ” whispered Bob fervently, he’s 
sure husky.” 

The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” 
came Tom’s reply. He knew that he would 
have to hearten his band of adventurers, for 
the first sight of their adversary was not one 


THE ATTACK 


85 


to bring great confidence in an easy victory. 

Bob was right. The man was husky. Stand- 
ing an easy six feet, when he raised his hands 
the blue flannel shirt fell away to reveal tanned 
arms, superbly muscled. His face was covered 
by a soft brown beard, evidently the growth of 
weeks. Stained corduroy trousers and high 
laced boots completed his costume. The boys 
watched as he built up his fire and put some 
potatoes in the ashes. From these preparations 
each boy was sure that their chance would not 
come that night — that the cave man was settled 
for the night. 

But this did not prove to be the case, for 
suddenly the object of their interest went to his 
dugout, stepped in and pushed off. When the 
dip of his paddle grew faint in the distance, 
Tom spoke in a low tone: 

That’s lucky for us. Probably he’s gone to 
pull a net he’s set or see if he hasn’t trapped 
a rabbit. Up with you, fellows; it’s our chance 
to get into the cave.” 

The little band scrambled to their feet and 
followed Tom to the cave. Although dusk was 
settling fast, they got a good idea of the inte- 


86 


TOM WICKHAM 


rior and it surprised them. It was as comfort- 
able as such a place could be. In one corner 
a bed of broomstraw had been made and covered 
with an army blanket. Near the entrance a 
comfortable rustic chair had been constructed 
out of elderwood. They knew it was comfort- 
able, for upon spying it, Ned had flopped into 
its depths, giving forth a contented sigh. But 
the thing that interested them most was the dis- 
covery of half a dozen books lying on a natural 
shelf of rock. * 

Funny kind of criminal who escapes with a 
library ! ’’ said Bob. It looks as if we might 
be in wrong.’’ 

'' Well, he’s probably got friends who give 
’em to him,” retorted Ned. ‘‘ The fellow’s got 
to have someone outside to tell him the news 
and get salt for him once in a while.” 

Bob was silenced. As it was almost dark by 
then, Tom distributed his forces in the best 
strategic positions. Giving the rope to Ned, he 
said: 

'' When our friend shows up. Bob and I will 
tackle him. As soon as he is on the ground, you 
slip the noose over his feet. Once his legs are 


THE ATTACK 


87 


tied, weVe got him. You, Bob, stay on this 
side of the cave and Til be on the other. 
Remember, let him pass you before you spring. 
Aim for his legs. Til go for his neck.'’ 

"‘Right you are!" answered Bob and Ned, 
although their hearts were beating wildly. 
“ We'll be on the job." 

“ Good," was the firm reply. “ Now, no more 
talking — and keep your eyes skinned!" 

The group was silent. Each boy, even Tom 
himself, was excited almost to the point of fear. 
As they talked, night had fallen and it was dark. 
The moon was late and the loneliness of their 
dangerous position was accentuated by the weird 
noise the croaking of a million frogs launched 
on the night air. 

“ There he is ! " whispered Ned, whose keen 
ears had caught the dip, dip of the paddle. 

“ Sh-ssh! " warned Tom. 

Now that the crisis was almost upon them, 
the nervousness that had been the result of the 
long wait passed and each lad comforted himself 
with the determination to do his best. 

Dip-dip, gurgle-gurgle. The dugout was com- 
ing closer and closer. Then it scrunched on the 


88 


TOM WICKHAM 


gravel and the solitary figure in the stern rose, 
disembarked and pulled his craft up out of the 
water. 

The boys tingled with intense excitement. The 
fire, which had died down during the man’s 
absence, suddenly flared up and they saw him 
throw a fat rabbit on the ground. Then, 
straightening up, he started for the cave’s 
opening. 

‘‘ Now! ” said Tom to himself. ‘‘ Now for it! ” 

A second later all was pandemonium. Per- 
fectly timed, the boys sprang and bore down on 
their quarry. He fell heavily and grunted as 
he struck the earth. 

Quick, Ned, the rope!” shouted Bob, w'ho 
was clutching the long legs of the prostrate man. 

Coming,” said Ned, who was in the rear of 
the cave. 

But at the moment he was about to slip the 
noose over their prisoner’s legs, the fortunes of 
war changed. From having things all their way, 
as they thought, suddenly the cases were 
reversed. 

Evidently the stranger had waited until his 
breath had fully returned, to make a supreme 


THE ATTACK 89 

effort. Now he acted. All at once he exerted 
every muscle and twisted his body to one side. 
Tom, who had been sitting on his shoulders, was 
thrown off, and Bob and Ned, who were manipu- 
lating the rope, were dashed aside. 

Seizing his momentary advantage, the man 
scrambled to his knees before the avalanche of 
boys was again upon him. From this position 
he was fighting on more nearly equal terms and 
was able to take care of the lads as they 
attacked. The cave was so narrow that the 
boys got in each other’s way and many a blow 
was wasted on account of the dark. 

After a few moments of useless scrimmaging, 
Tom, like a wise general, called his forces off 
when he realized that things were at a deadlock. 

‘‘ Beat it, fellows, beat — ” 

At that moment a last blow from the stranger 
sent him sprawling out of the cave’s mouth. 
Almost before he stopped rolling. Bob had 
helped him up and they were racing in the 
direction of the canoe. It had been agreed that 
it was to be the rendezvous should anything go 
wrong. 

The race through the night air brought Tom 


90 TOM WICKHAM 

from the daze the blow had caused. As his 
faculties came back, he stopped short. Where’s 
Ned? ” he demanded. Bob tried to urge him on, 
but with no success. 

‘‘We — we both started when you gave the 
word. Likely he’s at the canoe waiting for us. 
Come on, let’s see. You know Ned can fly on 
those three legs of his when it’s necessary. 
Don’t delay ; we’ve got to get out of here ! ” 
There seemed nothing else to do, so the two 
boys went on. 

When they came to the hiding place of their 
craft, Tom called Ned’s name softly, thinking 
he might have concealed himself in the vicinity. 
There was no answer. 

“Ned’s captured!” Tom said shortly, trying 
to keep the dismay he felt from his voice. “ We 
deserted him ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE DESERTED CHAMBER 

For a long moment both boys stood still, 
letting the terrible truth sink in. At last Bob 
stammered : 

Why — why — we both started when you 
gave the word, Tom, then — then I had to help 
you up and I forgot about poor old Ned! 

I know it wasn’t your fault,” said Tom. 

It was mine — ” 

How could that be? ” retorted the Northern 
boy. ‘‘You were dazed — you had enough to 
do to look out for yourself.” 

“ I should never have let him come to the 
cave. He should have stayed by the Hazard and 
covered our retreat. But that’s enough crying 
over spilt milk. We’ve got to get busy and 
rescue him.” 

“ You’re not going to try and do it now, are 
you?” asked Bob, incredulously. “Don’t you 


92 


TOM WICKHAM 


think we’d better get back to the Big House and 
tell the folks what’s happened?” 

'‘And waste all that valuable time? Not on 
your life! We’ve got to do something and do it 
quick, because we don’t know what that fellow 
will do with Ned.” 

" You don’t think he’ll hurt him? ” put in Bob 
anxiously. 

" A desperate man is likely to do anything,” 
was the emphatic answer. " I’m not going to 
take any chances.” Tom hesitated a moment. 
" Perhaps it would be a good plan if you’d take 
the canoe and go back for reinforcements, but 
I’m going to stay.” 

" I’m staying too, if you are,” asserted Bob 
stoutly. " What’s the first thing for us to do? ” 

" I want to find out what’s happened to Ned. 
That means we’ll have to get close up to the 
cave again.” 

" Couldn’t we circle around and come out on 
the edge of the cliff overlooking the cave? If 
anything is to be seen, there’s the best place to 
see it from.” 

" That’s a bully idea,” Tom Wickham 
approved. " Come on, let’s be moving. We can 


THE DESERTED CHAMBER 93 


plan the next thing to do after we get the lay 
of the land.” 

Rapidly they made a wide half-circle and after 
a successful struggle with the briers and under- 
brush they found themselves near the edge of 
the cliff. 

Until then, Tom had led the way. Now he 
stopped in his tracks waiting for his companion 
to catch up. When the latter was abreast of 
him, Tom pointed ahead and whispered: 

‘‘ Think we’d better crawl from here to the 
edge,” and, suiting his action to his word, 
dropped to his knees. Quiet as you know 
how,” was the admonishment Bob got as his 
chum wriggled forward into the gloom. A 
moment later, he was following Tom’s wake to 
the great discomfort of his hands and knees. 

Then a strange thing happened. Tom dis- 
appeared before his eyes! Bob was sure that 
he had never taken his gaze off the blurred 
form of his leader, yet it was the unmistakable 
truth that Tom was not in front of him! He 
choked down an almost uncontrollable impulse 
to cry out, realizing that if he did he would give 
away his own whereabouts to the man of the 


94 


TOM WICKHAM 


cave. That would not help any of them. Decid- 
ing then that the best course was the forward 
one, he crept along. Just about the spot where 
he had last glimpsed Tom, the scrub pines 
grew thicker, making the path pitch black. But 
still he advanced, brushing under the lowest 
branches. Suddenly, without warning, his hands 
felt no earth and the ground under his knees 
slipped from him. A terrifying moment that 
seemed an eternity ended in his thudding against 
something soft. 

Ugh ! ’’ escaped from the obstacle that had 
impeded his fall. Look out where you’re 
going! ” 

It was Tom, using what little breath he had 
left to protest. 

— I — couldn’t help it!” returned Bob, 

a j >» 

“ Of course you couldn’t, old man,” chuckled 
Tom. ‘‘ You were lucky, though. I didn’t have 
a soft bolster to fall on when I tumbled.” 

“ But where are we? What is it? ” 

My guess is that it’s one of the trenches 
that were dug for the defense of Richmond 
during the war. The pines have overgrown it 


THE DESERTED CHAMBER 95 


and they hid it from us. IBs a likely place for 
one — Sh — Sh, now. Vm going to the edge 
of the cliff and see if we are over the cave.” 

Bob sat still and heard his friend clamber up 
the other side of the pit they were in. As soon 
as he reached the top, his form was silhouetted 
against the sky. A moment later he was back. 

‘‘ WeTe a hundred yards away from the right 
place,” he announced. We’ll have to keep on 
to the right.” 

^‘The trench will be a help then,” suggested 
the boy from the North. We’ll be able to walk 
upright. My knees will be glad of that. I’ll bet 
they are raw and bleeding now.” 

No more time was wasted in talk. As quietly 
as possible they moved along the hollow the 
Confederate soldiers had been forced to desert 
when the attack had become too hot. Perhaps 
some of the courage that the desperate gray- 
clad men possessed came back to comfort the 
two lads, for they went along almost light- 
heartedly on their adventure. They knew that 
it was not child’s play that they were facing, 
but something serious — something which was 
as likely to mean complete disaster as success 


96 


TOM WICKHAM 


and glory. Yet they did not falter. Ned, their 
chum, was in the hands of the enemy and no 
effort or risk was too great to be undertaken 
in his rescue. 

‘‘ Ouch ! ” came in a muffled tone from Bob, 
who was now leading the way. 

Shut up! ” hissed Tom. ‘‘ Quiet, you crazy 
galoot! WeTe right over the cave!” 

But instead of instantly complying. Bob 
retorted in a shrill whisper : Come here, 

quick ! ” 

When the other came up, he was puzzled 
greatly, for all that he could see of his friend 
was the upper half of his body. 

‘‘ Where are your legs? ” was his first demand. 

“ In a hole. First thing I knew, I’d stepped 
up to my waist — ” 

“ But what are you standing on? ” 

Fm not standing. Fm stuck,” was the 
somewhat indignant response. “ I can’t feel 
any bottom, but I can kick the side of the hole. 
Hurry, Tom, give me a pull out.” 

Tom tugged and Tom pulled, but Bob was 
tightly wedged. At last, however, persistence 
brought about the desired result, and both boys 


THE DESERTED CHAMBER 97 


were seated, panting hard after their exertion. 

‘‘I — I don't think it was a very friendly 
thing of Johnny Reb to leave such a pitfall," 
complained the Northern lad, ‘‘I might have 
broken a leg — " 

“ Wait a bit," returned Tom Wickham, wait 
a bit. I am just wondering if that was a 
pitfall — " 

What else could it be ? " 

‘‘ It might have been dangerous for Johnny 
Reb to go down to the stream for water, by 
way of the cliff face — " 

‘‘ You mean — " 

“ I mean that it might have occurred to him 
to dig a tunnel, particularly as the cave down 
there would help. If Tm right, perhaps we'll 
get old Ned away without losing our scalps. As 
soon as I get my breath I'm going to find out." 

The desire to follow out the new possibility 
evidently hurried the return of their wind, for 
hardly a moment later Tom was investigating the 
hole Bob had discovered in such an original 
manner. The latter was squirming his way to 
the edge of the cliff to verify Tom's theory 
that they were over the cave's entrance. Coming 


98 


TOM WICKHAM 


back he reported that the stronghold of Ned’s 
captor was only a few yards away. 

“ Good,” commented Tom. “ And I’ve found 
that the hole is big enough for a man to get 
through. You got caught on a root! I’m going 
in and see what I can find. Will you wait and 
keep watch ? ” 

Not so’s you could notice it. I’m coming 
along too.” 

All right, then. But let’s be going.” 

Tom let himself slip into the hole feetfore- 
most. Just as his head was about to disappear, 
the motion ceased. 

I can touch bottom,” he whispered before 
he ducked into the earth. Bob followed and 
found himself in a bottle-shaped chamber, 
which was hardly large enough for the two boys 
at one time. As the inky dark made their 
eyes of no use, the boys felt until they found 
the opening that possibly led to the cave. 

Bob discovered it. It was close to the floor 
and cluttered up with rubbish, but the work of 
a few moments was sufficient to clear a passage 
which could be managed on all fours. Once 
through the opening, the boys found the going 


THE DESERTED CHAMBER 99 

easier, although the slope of their path was 
sharp. 

Not until long afterwards would either Tom 
or Bob own up to the fear that they experienced 
going through that tunnel, although it was eerie 
enough to make the heart of a strong man quail. 
The dark, the moist air that had filtered through 
the cold earth, the uncertainty as to what was 
to come, all combined to dampen their ardor. 
Yet on they went, sometimes on hands and 
knees, at others crawling, making themselves as 
small as possible in order to win through. 

Then gradually the path broadened and grew 
level. Finally Tom stopped as he could not 
touch either wall. Evidently they had come to 
the cave level. He dared not even whisper to 
Bob, because there was no way of telling 
whether the strange man of the cave was close 
or not. It was a relief when he felt a groping 
hand touch his arm and close on it. Finding 
Bob’s face with his free hand he put his fingers 
over the other’s mouth to emphasize the neces- 
sity for absolute silence. Then, holding each 
other close in order not to get lost in the dark, 
they started forward again. 


100 


TOM WICKHAM 


At that instant a noise throbbed through the 
silence. Stiffening, each boy strained his ears 
for a possible repetition. It came, a muffled, 
strained disturbance, bearing some relationship 
to a human voice indulging in a caricature of a 
laugh. 

It was sufficient to deflect Tom’s footsteps 
into the direction from which he thought the 
sound had come. With one hand holding tight 
to Bob and the other stretched out into the 
murk, he stepped out gingerly. 

Before his hand came in touch with some- 
thing solid, the queer noise again assailed the 
silence. This time it seemed a cry of pain. 

‘‘ Ned’s being hurt ! ” was the thought that 
leaped into the brain of each boy. 

A moment later, Tom’s hand touched a damp 
wall of rock and a sigh of relief came hissing 
through his teeth. At least he had something 
solid to rely upon at last. Instinctively, the boys 
laid their ears to the wall, hoping to hear more 
clearly what was taking place in the front of the 
cave. The sounds that came through were so 
dull that Tom decided that he could risk whisper- 
ing to Bob. If they could not distinguish words 


THE DESERTED CHAMBER 101 

spoken in full voice on the other side of the 
wall of rock, it stood to reason that a whisper 
of theirs would not be heard at all. 

‘‘ Bob, weVe just got to find the entrance into 
the front of the cave,’’ Tom whispered, putting 
his mouth close to the other’s ear. Work to the 
right, feeling every inch of the wall for an 
opening. As soon as you reach the corner, or 
if you find the passage, come back until you 
bump into me. I’ll work to the left.” 

‘‘ All right,” returned Bob, happy to be able 
to say even those two words after such a long 
period of enforced silence. 

They parted and for a long moment the dark- 
ness was unruffled by the slightest sound. 

‘‘Bang! Bang! Bang!” The horrible clat- 
ter was deafening by comparison with the 
silence that had gone before. 

Tom’s mind worked quickly, but before he 
could fix anything except that the clamor came 
from Bob’s direction, a sudden gleam lit up 
the scene. Unnerved by something he had done 
Bob had struck a match! 

The brief glare discovered to the awed eyes 
of the boys a strange spectacle. 


102 TOM WICKHAM 

The chamber was a veritable arsenal! Hun- 
dreds of guns were stacked along the rocky 
wall, beside which Bob stood. He had blundered 
into a pile of them and it was their fall that 
had made the great disturbance. 

The match flickered and went out, and dark- 
ness again closed in around them. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE RESCUE — AND A BATH 

Tom’s first thought, when he recovered from 
his sudden surprise, was not of the strange 
contents of the chamber, but of what effect the 
noise would have on the man in the outside 
cave. It seemed impossible that the disturbance 
had not been overheard by him — the rever- 
berations still echoed in the darkness. 

When everything was still again, both boys 
listened for some sound from outside that would 
give them an inkling of what to expect. To 
their great relief, the same dulled noise came 
to their ears, no louder or clearer than before. 

‘'Great day!” ejaculated Tom, softly, yet in 
a speaking tone. It was an exclamation of 
relief, yet it made Bob jump. 

“ What — wha — ” he stammered. 

“ It’s all right,” reassured Tom. “ If that 
bedlam you raised a minute ago did not give us 
103 


104 


TOM WICKHAM 


away, our talking won't. It's a blessing to be 
able to do that in this sticky dark." 

‘‘ But what do you make of this bunch of 
guns? " asked Bob Hazard. My guess is that 
it is an outlaws' headquarters and probably 
that chap out there is the caretaker ! " 

I don't think so," said Tom, who had picked 
up one of the guns. I've got one here and 
from the feel of it, it is just like the musket Pop 
carried in the Civil War. Besides, it is covered 
with rust and the wooden stock is about crumbled 
to dust." 

Then this must have been a storeroom for 
the soldiers in that trench above." 

That's my reckoning. They must have been 
driven out before they could rescue their stores. 
But this isn't helping Ned any. We've still got 
to find the passage into the outer cave ! " 

‘‘ I'm afraid it's not going to be any cinch," 
said the Northern boy. ‘‘ If we can't hear them 
any better than we have, and if the result of 
my clumsiness didn't alarm them, it's ten to one 
that during the years this chamber has been 
blocked off by a fall of rock ! " 

You sure are a hopeful cuss," was all that 


THE RESCUE 


105 


Tom replied. Come on, let's make a try. How 
many matches have you? I left all mine at the 
canoe." 

About three, I think. Yes, that's all." 

We'll not waste 'em, then. We'll need a 
light probably when we come on the passage. 
Get busy, now, and don't miss a crevice ! " 

But their search seemed hopeless. The wall 
was smooth, without a suspicion of a crack. At 
last they gave it up in despair. 

“ There's nothing to it, but to go back, I 
reckon," announced Tom, his disappointment 
apparent in his voice. It will mean going down 
the face of the clilf, but there is no other way 
possible." 

‘‘ I guess you're right, old man," was Bob's 
disconsolate rejoinder. “ We'd better hurry, 
too ; it must be getting well along towards 
daylight." 

Circling around the cavern, they found the 
passage through which they had come. Again 
Tom led the way, at first walking, and then on 
hands and knees. They had proceeded only a 
little way when Tom whispered tensely: 

We're going down hill! " 


106 


TOM WICKHAM 


I think you’re right ! This isn’t the way we 
came or we’d be going up/' 

'' Perhaps — perhaps we’ve stumbled on the 
way to the outside cave ! Could that be 
possible ? ” 

‘‘Go on ; we’ll know in a moment ! ” was the 
excited response. 

Again they moved forward. The passage 
twisted and turned but led steadily down. After 
traversing what seemed to him miles of rocky 
road, Bob turned a corner and almost fell over 
Tom’s legs. The latter was lying at full length, 
motionless. 

Then Bob felt Tom’s hand catch his shoulder 
and urge him to come up alongside. When 
he squirmed into position, he realized what 
Tom’s idea had been, for, right under their noses 
was an opening in the ground. Looking down, 
he knew that they were over the cave which 
formed Ned’s prison. 

As his eyes became more used to the soft 
light that filtered in from the cave’s mouth — 
the moon had risen during their sojourn under- 
ground — he could distinguish the outlines of 
objects below him. Ned was sleeping on the 


THE RESCUE 


107 


pallet right under them and, near the entrance, 
the man’s long form was stretched as if keeping 
guard. 

There was only one thing to do in the 
circumstances and both boys knew it. It would 
be a risky proposition to drop into the cave, 
wake Ned, hoist him into the tunnel and get 
back again, yet just that had to be done and 
done without waking the jailor. It was lucky 
that the latter was as far from the scene of 
activity as the confines of the cave would permit, 
and it was doubly lucky that the roof of the 
cave was lowest just where the opening was. 

Both boys made the move at the same time, 
but Bob was the quicker. As he let himself 
through the hole, his face came close to his 
chum’s. 

You’re the strongest, Tom. You can pull us 
up better ; that’s why I’m going,” he whispered, 
and Tom had to content himself with the passive 
role. 

A second later Bob was hanging by his hands, 
his whole body suspended. “Now for it!” he 
thought, praying that he would land on his feet. 

Letting go, he 'dropped only an inch or two 


108 TOM WICKHAM 

before his feet felt solid earth under them. So 
short was the drop that he made hardly any 
noise and he saw with relief that neither of the 
sleepers moved. 

Catching his breath, Bob knelt by the motion- 
less form of his friend and put his fingers over 
Ned’s mouth to stifle any sudden outcry. Then, 
putting his lips to Ned’s ear, he whispered, 
Ned — Ned!” 

The latter must have been sleeping lightly, 
for he opened his eyes immediately, and made no 
sound. Tom, looking down on the scene from 
above, murmured to himself : '' Good old Ned, 

he’s got some nerve ! ” 

Ned quickly caught on to what was expected 
of him from Bob’s gestures. Standing up on 
his one leg, he stretched up his arms, which 
Tom caught. With Bob pushing from below, it 
was an easy matter to hoist him into the tunnel. 
Then it was Bob’s turn. With Ned and Tom 
both using themselves as derricks, the boy from 
the North was soon in the comparative safety 
of the passage. Silently they congratulated 
themselves that the rescue had been effected 
without waking the cave man. But nothing was 


THE RESCUE 109 

said aloud, as each was intent on getting out of 
the tunnel before they were discovered. 

As long as the size of the tunnel forced them 
to crawl, Ned was all right. He could make 
progress as fast on two hands and one leg as the 
others could with a full complement of limbs, 
but when the passage grew bigger and walking 
was possible, if difficult, Ned was at a loss. 

Sorry, fellows,’’ he panted, but I had to 
leave my crutches. Old Whiskers took ’em away 
from me when we went to sleep — said he 
would rest easier if I hadn’t ’em.” 

This was a facer, for it meant delay and it 
was imperative that they should win their way 
to the canoe before dawn broke. 

'' Go on and leave me,” begged the boy. ‘‘ I’ll 
get out somehow.” 

‘‘ You’re crazy,” returned Tom. ‘‘ Come on. 
Bob, we didn’t rescue this hero just to lose him. 
You give him a hand until I find where this 
passage turns off. Give me one of your 
matches.” 

They had come to the chamber of the guns 
and felt that they could talk without danger. 
When the match flared, Ned exclaimed in won- 


110 TOM WICKHAM 

der and wanted to stop, but Bob caught him by 
the arm. 

'' We'll tell you all about it as soon as we’re 
safe,” he said as he hurried Ned along. Got 
to save our breath right now ! ” 

The same flash showed Tom the dividing point 
of the two passages. In the light it was easy 
to see how they had made their mistake. The 
tunnel which led from the trench to the chamber 
of the guns, emptied into a little anteroom, from 
which the other tunnel to the cave started. As 
these entrances were side by side, it had been 
sheer chance that they had entered the one they 
had on the way out. 

When he was sure that he had found the right 
track, Tom came back and gave Bob a helping 
hand with Ned. Between them they made good 
time until it was necessary again to go on 
hands and knees. At last, however, the final 
lap of the journey was completed and the boys 
came out into the fresh night air just as the 
dawn flung up its first shaft of light. 

Tom had warned his little party how danger- 
ous it would be to talk after they had emerged 
from the tunnel into the trench. The sound of 


THE RESCUE 


111 


their voices could easily carry over the brink of 
the cliff and down to the man who just now 
they so ardently wished to avoid. Therefore, 
in silence, the boys refreshed their lungs before 
making the dash to their canoe. 

They had decided that Ned should be carried 
pick-a-back. Tom would start with him and 
then Bob would tackle the job the rest of the 
way. 

Light comes fast once dawn breaks and the 
boys realized that they must be up and doing. 
They crawled along the trench until Tom decided 
that they were at the nearest point to the 
Hazard. Then, with Ned on his back, Tom led 
the way through the underbrush. 

The canoe was a welcome sight. They piled 
in and pushed off, feeling at last some measure 
of safety. It had grown light enough to steer 
the canoe with some speed and as soon as 
they felt they were out of possible earshot, Ned 
broke the silence. 

It was certainly nervy of you two to come 
back and get me out of that hole ! When I found 
I was caught I felt sure that you would go 
back home and bring help — 


112 


TOM WICKHAM 


We couldn't leave you that long," expos- 
tulated Tom. ‘‘ Tell us what happened to you — 
did he hurt you? " 

‘‘ No, I'm all right," was the answer. But 
my story will be tame compared to yours. I 
want to know how you found the tunnel and the 
guns. I was caught; that's about all that I've 
to tell — the rest can wait! " 

Thus urged. Bob related all that had taken 
place since the attack on the cave had failed. 
When he got to the part where the guns were 
discovered, Ned agreed with Tom's theory that 
the rifles were undoubtedly relics of the Civil 
War. 

“ Some day we will have to come back and 
get them, but not until we have our friend 
safely locked up. I guess he's too much for us 
to handle alone ! " 

In view of their experience with him, the 
others agreed that reinforcements must be 
brought up if they wished to capture the man 
Ned had referred to as “ Whiskers." Bob went 
on with his story and when he had finished, the 
crew of the Hazard found that they had reached 
the main stream. 


THE RESCUE 113 

Before Ned could get launched on his story, 
Tom put in a question. 

‘‘ Say, Ned, don’t you think Whiskers knows 
about the tunnel? The opening through which 
we pulled you was right in the middle of the 
roof.” 

Ned’s answer was positive. 

I don’t think so. I noticed the hole when 
the lantern was lit, but it seemed hardly more 
than a curious rock formation. I don’t think 
anyone would suspect it was a tunnel-opening 
unless he happened to climb up there.” 

‘‘ That’s good. Perhaps our friend won’t 
suspect how we got you out then,” he chuckled. 

I’ll bet he’ll be mystified when he finds you 
gone and your crutches still there! The only 
explanation he’ll think of is that you sprouted 
wings during the night. But come on; tell us 
what he did to you.” 

“ To tell the truth, he didn’t do much but 
laugh — that is, after he got his breath.” 

“ Laugh ? ” echoed the other two boys. “ Why 
did he laugh ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know, but the whole thing seemed 
to strike him as being funny. He would try 


114 


TOM WICKHAM 


to be harsh and growl at me, but every time he 
burst out laughing.” 

‘‘ That’s what we heard when we were in the 
gun room,” said Bob. Tom assented with a 
nod of his head and motioned Ned to go on. 

Well, fellows, it sort of made me mad, 
because we certainly put up a good scrap. I 
asked him point-blank what sort of crime he had 
committed and that made him burst out into 
another roar of laughter. Then he said that 
most folks wouldn’t call it murder, but that it 
was bad enough. He sure puzzled me.” 

I should think he would,” said Tom. But 
wasn’t he afraid we’d bring someone to catch 
him in the morning?” 

He discussed that fully with me,” was the 
answer. The way he figured it was that you 
could not get back with help before late this 
morning and by that time he expected to be far 
away. The only part I did not care for was his 
plan for me.” 

''What was that?” asked Tom eagerly. 

" I was to be tied up to a tree where you all 
would be sure to find me — ” 

Just then the exchange of experiences was 


THE RESCUE 


115 


interrupted. So interested had the boys become 
in each other’s experiences that little attention 
had been paid to paddling and hardly more than 
steerage way had been kept on their craft. Now 
a sound came to their ears, the sound of a 
paddle dipping regularly into the water. 

Great day in the morning! He’s after us! ” 
cried Ned. ‘‘Bend to it, fellows; we’ll have to 
beat him ! ” 

' Tom and Bob dug their blades into the water 
with all their strength. The light craft seemed 
almost to fly out of the water under the impulse 
of strong young arms. Ned, who was seated 
in the waist of the canoe, acted as lookout. 

“ It’s Whiskers, all right ! ” he exclaimed, as 
he saw the blunt nose of the dugout round the 
bend behind them. “ Paddle for your lives ! ” 

So intent were the boys on speed that they 
paid little heed to their direction. Once under 
way, they were gaining on their pursuer. Ned 
had opened his mouth to urge them on to greater 
efforts, when a sickening noise mingled with the 
rush of water, brought dismay to their hearts. 

A moment later the boys were struggling in 
the cold water. 


CHAPTER X 
WHISKERS 

The Hazard had tasted the first bit of hard 
luck that was to come her way. A jagged 
branch from a submerged log had torn a gaping 
hole in the canvas side of the canoe. So large 
a hole had it quickly become that she filled 
immediately and spilled her crew into the 
stream. The air chambers in the bow and 
stern kept her afloat although the gunwales 
were awash. 

All the boys could swim, but the spring had 
not advanced sufficiently to make bathing an 
unalloyed joy. The sudden catastrophe and the 
cold water had jolted from their minds all 
thought of their being pursued by a desperate 
man. This fact came back quickly, however, 
when the dugout pushed its bow into the midst 
of the splashing boys. It was Whiskers, of 
course. 

116 


WHISKERS 


117 


Catch hold of the gunwale, each of you,” 
the latter commanded in a gruff voice. All 
obeyed except Tom, who struck out lustily for 
shore. Without hurrying. Whiskers paddled 
after him and by threatening to use his paddle 
on Tom’s head, obtained obedience. 

While this was taking place, the almost sub- 
merged canoe had drifted to shore a little farther 
down stream. The man directed the dugout’s 
course that way, towing the boys until a moment 
later it grounded on the bank. 

Whiskers got out and watched with a satirical 
smile the wet and disgruntled boys emerge from 
the water. Then, quite solemnly, he produced 
a wicked looking automatic from his hip pocket 
and balanced it carelessly in his hand, as he 
talked. 

Well, young fellows, we meet again. I hope 
you are as glad to see me as I am to see you! ” 
He paused a little and went on, And this time 
I am expecting that you will not leave me so 
hurriedly, am I right? ” In view of the instru- 
ment he held in his hand, the boys were unan- 
imous in agreement. ‘‘ That’s good. Now, two 
of you empty the water out of your canoe and 


118 


TOM WICKHAM 


bring it up here in the sun. Wait a moment; I 
brought your crutches — thought you might 
need 'em.” Ned, who had been imitating a 
stork, took the implements gladly. ‘‘ You,” 
singling out Tom, gather some wood for a fire. 
It would be discourteous if I should allow my 
late guests to remain wet. Not too far,” he 
cautioned, as Tom started hurriedly in the gen- 
eral direction of home. ‘‘ There’s plenty of 
wood quite close ! ” 

His directions were carried out to the accom- 
paniment of a steady stream of banter. When 
the fire was burning briskly, he ordered them 
to get as close to it as they could without burn- 
ing to a crisp. 

While you are drying out, my lads, we can 
have a heart to heart talk.” 

'' What the dickens are you going to do with 
us. Whiskers?” burst out Tom, unable to 
restrain himself longer. 

“Whiskers, is it? Whiskers, indeed!” burst 
out the man with a roar of mirth. “ Well, that 
name will do as well as another.” His laugh 
died to a smile. “ But I’ve not answered your 
question. What am I going to do with you? It 


WHISKERS ’’ 


119 


all depends on what is the outcome of our little 
talk. Perhaps one thing and perhaps another.” 

The boys’ spirits began to rise under the 
influence of Whisker’s badinage and the warmth 
of the fire. Before any of them spoke, however, 
the man had begun again. 

“ This is an important question. Answer it 
carefully. Why did you attack me last night? ” 

It was Bob who answered. 

Why, why, when we stumbled on the cave 
we felt sure that you were an escaped criminal 
and — and — ” 

‘‘ And you thought you’d capture me and claim 
the reward? Was that it? ” 

''Yes — yes, sir,” was the stammered reply. 
Perhaps it was something in the man’s tone of 
voice that made them feel that their object had 
not been a worthy one. 

" Doesn’t it strike you that possibly even an 
escaped criminal might be innocent? And even 
if he wasn’t, that a jail is a pretty poor place 
for a man? You don’t like to keep an animal 
caged, do you? I thought not.” 

Whiskers had seen by the boys’ faces that he 
had hit the right note. They squirmed and 


120 


TOM WICKHAM 


realized that somehow their escaped criminal had 
put them in the wrong. Tom blurted out his 
feeling. 

‘‘ I see what you mean. But won’t you tell 
us your story? If we only knew that you were 
innocent, it would help a lot ! ” 

You mean that if you were sure that I was 
straight you would not go back home and tell 
the authorities my whereabouts?” A peculiar 
smile played about the man’s mouth as he spoke. 

‘'You said it! That’s just what we mean!” 
the boys cried. 

“ You seem to forget,” said Whiskers dryly, 
“ that it is my privilege to say whether you are 
ever to go home again.” He seemed to debate 
with himself a moment. Then he continued. 
“ But I’m inclined to take a chance with you 
fellows and I am not even going to explain 
whether I’m guilty or innocent. I’m going to 
take a chance that you chaps are good sports — 
that you will give me the benefit of the doubt. 
Am I right? ” 

Surely, in spite of the villainous growth of 
beard that almost covered his face, this man did 
not look as the boys had imagined a criminal 


WHISKERS 


121 


should. There was something in the clearness 
of the eyes that gleamed at them, something in 
the whole-hearted exuberance of his laugh, that 
disarmed them. They looked from one to the 
other and then Bob spoke. 

Tin willing to trust you and I think the 
fellows are, too. I don’t believe you ever did 
what you are accused of.” 

Whiskers laughed again. 

Thank you for those cheering words, my 
son. Some day I will tell you all, but the time 
is not ripe. And when I tell you, perhaps you 
will explain how my captive broke jail. Fll be 
interested to know, for it was a neat job ! ” 
The boys were thrilled. It was almost as if 
they were conspirators. 

‘‘ We’ll tell you how he did it if you’ll explain 
to us right now what you’re doing out here in 
the swamp,” offered Tom, seeing a possible 
chance to trade secrets. 

‘ You will, will you? ” was the answer he got. 

That’s good of you. But somehow I don’t 
figure it as an even bargain. I might do a 
little Sherlock Holmesing around the cave in 
my leisure moments and thereby find out how 


122 


TOM WICKHAM 


my guest left so suddenly without bidding me 
good-bye. It’s questionable whether you can 
find out as much about me. No, I fear I shall 
have to decline the offer and hold you to your 
decision — not to give me away. That holds 
good, doesn’t it? ” 

Seeing the futility of getting any further 
information, the boys agreed. 

“ But you will let us know the mystery as 
soon as you can?” insisted Ned. ‘‘Somebody 
might come along any time and ask us questions 
we couldn’t answer. You’ve thought of that?” 

“ Sure. But I rather think you won’t be 
bothered just now at any rate. Perhaps sooner 
than you think I’ll come down the river and 
confess all my sins. By the way, where will 
I find you if I should come?” 

“ Almost every afternoon we’re at the Island 
where the South Anna and Little River forks.” 

“What are you doing there? Building a 
cabin ? ” 

“ Growing a crop of corn.” 

“ There are certainly a lot of ways to spend 
a summer vacation. But a crop of corn! That 
sounds like work!” 


WHISKERS ” 


123 


'' It is. But this is a special crop. We are 
out to beat a record and perhaps win a prize. 
Come down and see our farm. Nobody comes 
down there except us.’’ 

‘‘All right, I may. Watch out for me, for 
I’ll probably come when you least expect me.” 

The trio were somehow cheered by Whiskers’ 
promise to visit them. Perhaps it was because 
they felt instinctively that he would not jeer at 
their efforts but would probably sympathize. 
Before they had a chance to reply. Whiskers 
spoke briskly: 

“ Well, now that part is settled, we’d better 
see about getting you chaps home. Nearly 
dry?” 

They felt themselves all over and although 
there were damp spots here and there, they 
announced themselves as ready for the next 
thing on the program. 

“ I guess we’d better see what can be done to 
your canoe,” was Whisker’s suggestion. He 
went over and looked at the tear carefully. 
“ It’s not as bad as it might be. I think we can 
fix it up in a jiffy! ’’ 

While he tinkered with the tear, he sent Bob 


124 


TOM WICKHAM 


to cut a piece of bark from a birch tree. The 
boys watched him, fascinated as he patched the 
rent with the bark and sewed it with string. 
To complete the job, he gathered some rosin sap 
from the near-by pines and smeared the edges of 
the patch. 

‘‘ That ought to do until you get to the fork 
of the river. It's not very pretty, but it will 
hold you out of the water, if you don't stick 
your foot through the weak spot. You may 
have to bail a little, too — ” 

If there is one thing which will force admira- 
tion from a boy, it is the ability to do an 
emergency job well. Whiskers had done what 
had seemed to them impossible. They felt that 
a man as skilled in woodcraft as was this one, 
could not possibly have done anything wrong. 

When the canoe was again launched, only a 
few drops of water made their way inside. As 
they started to paddle off. Whiskers called: 

'' Remember, Tm trusting you ! " 

When they had rounded the next bend, Tom, 
who was paddling now, turned and addressed 
his companions: 

'' Can you beat that for an adventure? ” 


CHAPTER XI 
ON THE TRAIL 


When school closed at last, there was only 
one drawback to Ned’s and Bob’s enjoyment at 
being free from morning until night: Tom was 
not as free as themselves. 

Many a plan had to be given up because Tom 
was necessary to its success, and things they 
did do often lacked completeness because their 
chum was absent. 

‘‘ I don’t think Big Chris ought to work him 
so hard ! ” exploded Bob one day. “ Why doesn’t 
he sneak away? ” 

Well, he promised he’d work if he could 
keep on at school,” said Ned. “ And old Tom 
won’t play hookey from a promise, you know 
that as well as I do.” 

“ I guess you’re right,” grumbled the Northern 
boy, ‘‘but all the same I wish he could come 
along with us oftener. There ought to be a 
limit, but Big Chris never lets up!” 

125 


126 


TOM WICKHAM 


Wait a minute, wait just a minute ! Ned 
cried. ‘‘ I think Tve got a plan — 

“ To get Tom off? ” 

'‘Yes. What do you think of this? Let’s go 
down to Big Chris and offer to help Tom in 
the mornings if he can get off in the afternoons. 
Chris Wickham’s a hard man, but he prides 
himself on being fair. He ought to be willing.” 

" Fine idea ! ” was the enthusiastic answer. 
“ Come on; let’s go down and see how it works.” 

It worked and the boys worked in consequence. 
But, as they were all together, the hard tasks 
Tom’s father set them to do seemed easy. They 
plowed, hoed, repaired fence; in fact, did all the 
many things necessary to keep a farm running. 
However, when the three had accomplished what 
the old man felt that Tom should have done 
alone, he would set them free for the rest of 
the day. 

Tom was the only one who was seriously upset 
by this arrangement. He felt that the others 
were giving up too much for him — that it was 
not fair to them. However, seeing that they 
were determined, he was forced to give in. 

Tom’s father had not needed his help much 


ON THE TRAIL 


127 


before school closed, or, if he had, did not say so, 
for almost every afternoon Tom had been free 
to v^ork with his chums on Bear Island without 
the necessity of their ransoming him. 

A day or so after the unsuccessful raid on 
the cave, Tom remembered that Mr. El wood 
had advised going lightly over the field with a 
harrow about four days after the seed was 
planted. 

'' We'd better do it, fellows," he decided, 

although we are a little late. Mr. Elwood 
says doing this will kill the quick growing weeds 
and also let air get to the seed, which will help 
it to germinate." 

When this was done, the boys had waited 
anxiously for the first sign of the seed's 
sprouting. 

It was a great moment when they saw the 
first green shoot peeping out of the ground, 
for it marked the first really tangible sign of 
what was to come. Somehow the ever recurring 
miracle of growing things is always surprising. 
One puts a seed in the ground, hoping, believing 
it will be fertile and grow; one waits during 
the time it is underground with growing fear 


128 


TOM WICKHAM 


and suspicion ; but it is not until the plant 
breaks from its earthy prison into the sunlight 
that one is sure that nature again has triumphed. 

The first evidence of their industry was 
rapidly followed by others until there were little 
spots of green all over the field. When the 
shoots averaged three inches in height, Tom 
announced, We’ll start hoeing corn to- 
morrow.” 

‘‘To-morrow?” echoed Bob, “Why, we will 
bury these little plants if we disturb the ground 
around them.” 

“ Not so’s you could notice it,” returned the 
farmer’s boy. “ And anyway the hoeing’s not 
meant to bury the plants in earth, but to let 
moisture and air to their roots. The secret of 
a big corn crop is to get the proper proportion 
of moisture and air into the soil.” 

“Where’d you get the long words, Tom?” 
asked Ned with a smile. “ Mighty highbrow 
line of talk — ” 

“ It was marked in a book Mr. Elwood sent 
down,” Tom flashed back. “If you’d study 
those books more yourself, you wouldn’t have to 
be told — ” 


ON THE TRAIL 129 

‘‘All right, all right, old man. Tell us how 
to get the air and moisture into the soil.’’ 

This mollified Tom, so he went on — 

“ It’s by cultivation, and what that means is a 
constant stirring up of the soil around the grow- 
ing stalks. The latest method and the most 
successful, so the book says, is shallow cultiva- 
tion ; that is, only breaking the surface to a depth 
of two inches.” 

“ But isn’t there a way to do this by a 
machine?” asked Bob. “It seems to me that 
there’s some sort of apparatus in Brother Eddy’s 
barn that I’ve heard called a cultivator.” 

“ There is,” Ned put in, “ but it would have 
to be drawn by a quieter nag than Pony. He’d 
walk all over our young corn. I see what Tom’s 
driving at — it’s up to us and our trusty hoes. 
Huh, Tom? ” 

“ That’s it. Let’s get started.” 

Next morning, as they made their way 
through the fresh early air towards the Island, 
Bob Hazard took up the conversation where 
it had dropped. 

“ Do we do this often, Tom? ” 

“ The book says eight or ten times during 


130 


TOM WICKHAM 


the crop. At that rate I expect we'll be at it 
all summer — " 

“As soon as we finish one cultivation, we’ll 
have to start all over again?” 

“ ’Fraid so, but I reckon when the stalks are 
bigger we can get the cultivator and team from 
Brother Eddy. That will help some.” 

“ You bet. Well, fellows, let’s get to work.” 

They started across the field in the same 
direction that they had plowed the field, loosen- 
ing the earth and drawing it towards the little 
plants, taking care, however, not to bring the 
earth too close. When all the rows had been 
done, Tom started them working across the field 
at right angles to the paths they had just taken. 

“ I see now why we had to be so careful 
about measurements before planting,” exclaimed 
Bob. “ If we hadn’t, the hills would have been 
irregular and we couldn’t have cross cultivated 
like this. Another victory for ‘ book farming.’ ” 

When the job was done, their field was a sight 
good to see. The squares made by their cultiva- 
tion were regular and exact — it looked neat 
and efficient. Also, for the first time, the 
“ hills ” had some resemblance to their name. 


ON THE TRAIL 


131 


Before, the spot where the seed was planted was 
a “ hill,'' but until this cultivation these spots 
had been as level as the surrounding field. 

Tom let his chums survey their handiwork 
for several satisfying moments. Then he 
sprang a surprise on them. 

‘‘Feel strong, fellows?" he asked. “Ready 
for some fun to-morrow ? " 

“Yes, sure," returned Bob. “What's up?" 
Ned was not so anxious, so he kept still, waiting 
for what would come. From Tom's tone he 
suspected that the “ fun " might turn out to be 
something quite different. 

“ That's good," Tom said, “ because we'll 
have lots of fun down on the Island. Get your 
hoes — " 

“What?" wailed Bob. “More hoe work? 
We've just been over the field." 

Ned laughed. “ I knew you had something up 
your sleeve, old boy. You didn't fool me!" 

“ I didn't try to," chuckled Tom. “ All I was 
going to say was, get your hoes sharpened, for 
as soon as these shoots grow to from eight to 
ten inches high, we must start cultivating it 
again. All we have to do right now is to thin 


132 


TOM WICKHAM 


the field out. Only the strongest plants should 
be allowed to go on growing.’’ 

'' How soon will they be that high? ” inquired 
Bob, much relieved to know that he wasn’t 
expected to start the tiresome hoeing again 
immediately. 

'' It won’t be long, don’t worry about that. 
But thinning is not so all-fired easy. Don’t 
think you’ve got any cinch job for to-morrow.” 

And so it proved. 

When three o’clock came the next afternoon, 
Bob was glad to hear Ned yell: 

‘‘ Something tells me I’d like a swim! ” 

‘‘Last one in’s a rotten egg!” yelled Bob, 
racing for the bank of the river, tearing ofif his 
clothes as he ran. 

The others followed and with hardly an 
instant’s separation between them, three mighty 
splashes disturbed the slow-flowing old river. 

“ Great day, but it’s good! ” spluttered Ned. 

“ Better’n that swim we took up river when 
Whiskers — ” Bob laughed. 

“You bet!” Tom interrupted. “That was 
cold — but Whiskers warmed us up ! ” 

“ Mighty decent of him to dry us and then 


ON THE TRAIL 133 

let us go after the way we’d treated him, 1 
think,’’ was Bob’s comment. 

“ Me too,” confirmed Ned. And then to 
bring along my crutches! But, Tom, do you 
think he’s still there in the cave?” 

They pulled themselves up out of the water 
and sat on the clay bank, letting the warm sun 
dry them. At length Tom answered: 

I reckon so. Don’t see any reason why not. 
But — but I wish he’d come down and tell us 
things are all right, as he said he would.” 

“ Don’t you think they are all right ? ” 

“ Sure, I trust him. We all do or we wouldn’t 
have kept our mouths shut as we have. But all 
the same I’d sure like to see him.” 

After a little more idle speculation, thoroughly 
dried and feeling much refreshed, they resumed 
their work in the field. The greater part of the 
next afternoon was also used up in the same 
way, but at the end they had the satisfaction 
of knowing that the strongest plants that had 
sprung from each hill had been given every 
chance to get all the nourishment possible from 
the ground, without having to share it with 
weaker brothers. 


134 


TOM WICKHAM 


It had meant stooping over and pulling up 
the weaker plants by hand. Great care had to 
be taken in order that the young plants should 
come out roots and all, or at least that the stalk 
be broken under ground, as it would grow again 
if any of the stalk was exposed to the air. 

After this operation there was nothing more 
to do until Tom felt it wise to cultivate again. 
This happened just before school closed. Again 
in June, the rows had to be gone over once 
more. 

Leaving Bob and Ned at the fork of the road 
which led to the Big House the night the third 
cultivation was finished, Tom trudged his way 
home through the gathering dusk. He was 
thinking of what a bully summer it had been 
so far, of the adventures and sport that it had 
held. To the hard work the summer had 
brought, he gave hardly any thought, as even 
that had become part of living and was there- 
fore fun. 

When he reached the house his sharp ears 
told him that a vehicle, a buggy from the sound, 
was going down the river road. Probably 
someone had stopped at the house. Going into 


ON THE TRAIL 


135 


the kitchen, he found that his mother had saved 
him a bite of supper — it v^as now far beyond 
the time of the evening meal. While he was 
munching the food, he heard his name called. 
It was his father. 

Coming, sir,’’ Tom managed to call, his 
mouth full. 

Late for yer vittles again ! ” was the way 
he was greeted. Reckon it’s that hundred- 
bushel crop that’s kept you? Well, it’s my 
reckonin’ sho’, that ye passel o’ boys’ll have to 
stay up all night every night to make sich a 
crop! Haw — haw!” He roared at what 
he felt was a very funny joke. 

In like cases Tom had learned that the best 
course by far was to keep still and wait what 
was coming. When at last the storm subsided. 
Big Chris spoke. 

When you been traipsin’ around in that 
can-00, have you located any strange white 
trash roamin’ the woods?” 

This question in its unexpectedness almost 
stunned the boy. His body stiffened and he 
looked at his father, feeling as he did so that 
his expression must be giving away his knowl- 


136 


TOM WICKHAM 


edge of Whiskers. A million thoughts rushed 
through his brain in an instant. At last one 
came on which he seized. The buggy he had 
heard was the one that had brought the news! 
Someone was on Whiskers’ trail and had spread 
the alarm. Trying to control his voice, he 
answered : 

‘^A stranger, Pop? In this neighborhood? 
Why would anyone come around here?” He 
hoped with this flood of questions to divert his 
father from demanding a direct reply. Tom 
did not want to lie, and a wave of relief passed 
over him when his father’s next words showed 
that he had succeeded. 

‘‘ ’Tain’t much of a section to attract folks, 
that’s a fact, but Jake Beasley, the sheriff, has 
just been here an’ he allows that a man done 
escaped from the pen’tentiary an’ last seen of 
him was somewheres here in Hanover County. 
If he was smart enough to escape, I reckon 
he’s spry enough to keep out o’ sight o’ you 
boys.” Big Chris hesitated a moment and con- 
tinued : ‘‘ But I’d like to get my hands on him 

— ’twould be worth nigh onto five hundred dol- 
lars to the feller what caught him. A mighty 


ON THE TRAIL 137 

nice li’r piece o’ land could be had for that,” 
he finished meditatively. 

Tom’s heart jumped as he contrived to form 
a question. Sdre as he was that Whiskers was 
the man on whose head the price was set, he 
wanted all the information he could get. A plan 
had half formed itself in his brain as his father 
talked; and to decide if he should carry it out 
he needed to know all that was available. 

What did the — the man do, Pop?” was 
what he said. 

‘‘ Stole a heap o’ money from a bank in 
Roanoke, Jake said. Name was Simpson. The 
way of the transgressor is hard — ” 

But Tom was not listening. His relief was 
great to find that Whiskers was not accused of 
murder. Stealing was bad enough, but the boy 
could find more excuses for it. Besides, he did 
not believe that Whiskers was guilty, anyway. 

Awaking from his reverie, he heard his father 
finish. 

‘^And, son, if you see anyone actin’ suspi- 
cious-like, you make tracks cornin’ to tell me 
’bout it. You hear me?” 

Yes, sir,” answered Tom, taking up a bulle- 


138 


TOM WICKHAM 


tin of the Agriculture Department and pretend- 
ing to read, although his mind was far from the 
printed page. As soon as he felt it safe, he 
said good night and went up to his room. 


CHAPTER XII 


TOM’S ERRAND 

Once in his room Tom slipped off his shoes, 
blew out the lamp and lay down on his bed fully 
dressed. 

The plan that had occurred to him downstairs 
met his full approval when he heard of what 
Whiskers was accused, and he determined to 
carry it out. 

He would go and warn Whiskers of his 
danger. 

Tom knew that if it was to be done at all, it 
must be done at once. In fact, it must be done 
that very night, for on the morrow he would 
be in his father’s sight all day, it being Sunday. 
Big Chris was a devout man and belonged to a 
church which observed Sunday minutely. There 
would be Sunday school early in the day, then 
preaching. Luncheon would be eaten in the 
churchyard and again the minister would hold 


140 


TOM WICKHAM 


forth during the whole of the hot afternoon. 
And Big Chris would see to it that his son 
should not miss a word. No, it had to be done 
that night, and although the thought of the 
journey through the dark held its terrors, even 
for this country boy, Tom knew he would not 
hesitate a moment when the time came. 

Alert, he lay in the dark, waiting for some 
sound to tell him his father had gone to bed. 
It was not a long vigil, for Big Chris tired 
early of spelling out the news in his paper. 

As soon as all was quiet, the boy crept softly 
to his open window. Tying the laces together, 
he slung his shoes around his neck and crawled 
out. Hanging by his hands, with his stock- 
inged feet he sought a foothold on the warped 
shutter of the window belonging to the room 
below. It was a dangerous moment, but he 
had practiced the stunt often. Letting go his 
hands, he turned quickly and half jumped, half 
fell onto a branch of a great locust tree that 
pushed its friendly arms towards the house. A 
little shaken and breathless, he perched himself 
near the tree trunk for a brief rest. 

A moment later he was on the ground, and 


TOM’S ERRAND 


141 


surrounding him were his two rabbit hounds. 

Down, Rush! ” he commanded softly. Not 
this time, Minnie I ” 

Whimpering a little, the well-trained animals 
slunk back under the house, their expectations 
of a coon hunt foiled. 

Tom sped through the gloom, feeling his way 
by intuition rather than sight. The sky was 
cloudy; not a star could penetrate the fleecy 
blanket, and the moon was on the other side of 
the world. 

Bear Island reached, he skirted the young 
corn until he came to the point where the canoe 
was hauled up on the bank. As he struggled to 
get it into the water, he was sorry that his 
chums were not with him, but comforted him- 
self with the knowledge that it would have 
taken far too much of the short time at his 
disposal to summon them. He must be back 
in his room before dawn, and every moment 
counted. 

Until he got well started on his paddling 
Tom had been too excited and full of his deter- 
mination to get to Whiskers to be conscious of 
the weird journey on which he had embarked. 


142 


TOM WICKHAM 


Now the dark, the silence of the forest night, 
punctuated here and there by queer sounds 
from all the myriad animals, penetrated his 
absorption. 

It was scary. But on he went. It is not the 
person who does not know fear who is brave, 
but the one who is terrified to the bottom of 
his heart and still goes on. 

Many of the noises that came to the boy’s 
ears were familiar and could be classified, but 
those he did not know — at each repetition a 
little hammer pounded at his heart. 

But soon his attention was diverted from his 
own feelings. Always before two of the boys 
had paddled when bucking the current of the 
river. Now he was alone and what his strength 
could accomplish was not sufficient. A land- 
mark that he chanced to remember showed him 
that he had made but little headway against the 
stream for the time he’d been paddling. Some- 
thing must be done. 

If navigation was impossible, the only thing 
left was to hoof it. Having decided, Tom lost 
no time in carrying out his determination. 
Swinging the bow of the canoe to the bank, 


TOM’S ERRAND 


143 


he climbed out, made her fast, and struck out 
up the bank along the river. He was reason- 
ably sure that he would be able to locate the 
Hazard again, and he knew that the point where 
he had left her was close to the landmark he 
had fixed in his mind. 

The going was rough. His path lay as close 
to the stream as possible, as it was his only 
guide. Fearing he might lose his way com- 
pletely, he dared not take advantage of what 
in daylight would have been obvious short-cuts. 

The banks of a river subject to periodical 
overflows are hardly to be compared with tow- 
paths. Instead they are uneven, cluttered with 
driftwood, and likely to be marshy. Stumbling, 
climbing, slipping, Tom made what speed he 
could. 

Once his foothold gave way and he was pre- 
cipitated into the river, only to come out little 
the worse for his drenching. The wet clothes 
impeded him, however, and made the going 
even slower. 

When at last he felt that his powers of 
endurance were about exhausted, a streak of 
luck came his way. Tom’s plan had been to 


144 TOM WICKHAM 

follow the South Anna to the fork where the 
stream on which the cave was situated branched 
oif, although he knew that it meant at least a 
mile or two more of journeying. This was made 
unnecessary by the chance sight of light which 
flared up for an instant over the trees. 

Tom marked the spot and directed his foot- 
steps that way, realizing that in all probability 
it was Whiskers' camp fire, flickering before it 
went out. 

Before he reached his goal, however, there 
was one more obstacle to overcome. The boy 
had gone only a few hundred feet in the new 
direction before his feet met swampy ground. 
Pushing ahead, he found it growing worse, 
instead of better. Thoughts of quicksand came 
to him as he plowed through the swamp, 
sometimes up to his waist in the muddy water. 

The swamp was not wide at this point, but 
to the weary lad its crossing was more of a 
task than all that had gone before. ‘‘ Get a 
wiggle on ! " he said to himself aloud. ‘‘ Buck 
up, you're almost there!" 

It was a relief to get his feet on solid land 
again and in spite of a desire to sit down and 


TOM’S ERRAND 145 

get his breath, he pushed on and made his way 
around the cliff up to the cave. 

Everything was peaceful. The fire was a 
mass of embers and shed just enough light to 
show the dugout in its accustomed place, half 
in, half out, of the water. From the mouth of 
the cave came heavy breathing — so heavy that 
it was perilously close to a snore. 

‘‘ Whiskers ! ” called Tom. ‘‘ Whiskers ! ” 

An alarmed voice sounded from the cave’s 
depth : 

‘‘Hey? What? Who is it?” 

A moment later, upon being reassured that 
it was a friend, out Whiskers came, in one 
hand his automatic, ready for action in case it 
should be a trap, an electric torch in the other. 

“It’s you again, is it?” he said when the 
light had confirmed what he’d heard. “ Back 
again — and what’s the game this time? 
Repented of your trust? Got a bunch of young 
wildcats ready to spring on me when I’m 
quiet?” 

“ No, sir,” returned Tom. “ I just came to 
tell you that they are on your trail and know 
you are somewheres about here ! ” 


146 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ The dickens they are and do ! ” exclaimed 
the man. Then, taking another look at Tom, 
he saw the bedraggled condition in which the 
boy was. Here, old man, come over to the 
fire and tell me about it.'’ 

Whiskers threw on an armful of pine knots, 
which, being full of resin, immediately burned 
up brightly. 

And — and you came all the way here to 
warn me of something?" asked the bearded 
man slowly. 

Yes." 

‘'So that I could run for it?" 

“ Yes." 

For a long moment Whiskers was silent. 
Then he came around the fire and held out his 
hand. 

“ Thanks," he said simply. “ Now tell me 
all about it." 

Tom told what his father had said, the 
ofifense, the reward, everything, finishing with: 
“ So I came to tell you." 

From the boy's clothing the man was able 
to judge what difficulties Tom had overcome in 
getting there. 


TOM’S ERRAND 


147 


‘‘And do you still think Tm innocent?” 

“ I don’t know,"' retorted Tom, wearily. “ I 
just trust you somehow.” 

“ You have honored me more than you know,” 
said Whiskers very gravely and seriously. 
“ And I can’t make believe any longer. I’m 
going to confess to you ! ” 

“ No, don’t! ” said Tom quickly. “ I couldn’t 
stand it if you were guilty ! ” 

“ But I’m not ! ” almost shouted Whiskers in 
his honest voice. “ I’m hiding, but not from 
the police.” 

Tom was astounded. 

“ Why — why did you let us think so, then? ” 
he demanded. 

“To pay you chaps back. You assumed that 
I was a fugitive from justice and it seemed 
rather to spoil the sport if I declined to be it. 
Besides, it was an experiment to find out 
whether I was the sort of fellow to be 
trusted — ” 

“Then — who are you?” insisted Tom. 

“ I’m not the man the sheriff is hunting,” 
returned the other, “and that’s about all I’m 
going to tell you right now. I’ll have to explain 


148 


TOM WICKHAM 


it all some other time. But don’t worry any 
more about my being a criminal! I must not 
be seen by anyone but you boys, that’s all.” 

‘‘Just as you want, sir!” Tom said. “But 
you will come down to the fork soon and see 
how our corn is coming along? ” 

“ Sure, I’ll be glad to,” said Whiskers. 

They talked a little more but at last Tom got 
up stiffly. 

“ I reckon I’d better start back,” he said. 
“ I’ve got to get into the house before daylight.” 

“You’ve got to get back?” exclaimed 
Whiskers. “You can’t, old man — ” 

“ Can’t help it. Better start,” said Tom, 
although his knees quaked a little at the thought 
of the return journey. He moved away from 
the ring of the fire. A moment later Whiskers 
had him by the arm. 

“ If you go. I’ll take you,” he insisted. “ I’ll 
take you in the dugout. You’ve come through 
all that to warn me — do you think I’d let you 
try to hoof it back again alone? Not so’s you 
could notice it! You did a big thing to-night, 
and I want you to know I’m properly 
appreciative!” 


TOM’S ERRAND 


149 


A little later the clouds passed away to show 
the moon, almost round, nailed to the heavens. 
By its light a bearded man paddled a canoe in 
which a boy lay sleeping. 


CHAPTER XIII 
THE LEVEE 

‘‘ Bully for you ! was Bob Hazard’s com- 
ment when Tom related his adventure to them 
before church the next morning. 

Tm sure enough glad that Whiskers is on 
the level,” was Ned’s remark. 

And, indeed, this was the first thought of all 
the boys. Although the personality of the man 
had been sufficiently attractive to win their 
unquestioning trust, it was good to know that 
he had not hypnotized them, had not fooled 
them. That the man had really made a deep 
impression was shown by the fact that none of 
the boys questioned his unsupported statement 
as to his innocence of any real crime. 

‘‘ But the thing I can’t understand is why he 
wouldn’t tell you who he was,” said Bob. If 
there was nothing to hide, why should he be so 
mysterious? ” 


150 


THE LEVEE 


151 


I don’t know. It is funny ! ” 

''I think I know!” exclaimed Ned, who was 
the most romantic of the trio. He’s in love 
and his lady has sent him to the wilderness to 
test him, like some of Sir Walter Scott’s 
stories.” 

You’re crazy,” laughed Tom. He’s got 
too much sense for that.” 

'' Perhaps, but still it’s funny.” 

Don’t let’s bother about it,” concluded Tom. 

He promised to tell the whole story when 
the time was ripe. I vote we wait until then. 
What worries me now is that the Hazard is 
somewhere on the other side of the river. I 
was asleep in the dugout when we passed by it 
coming back.” 

‘‘ I’ll swim over there to-morrow and get it,” 
promised Bob. ‘‘ It’s all right ; no one will 
bother with it. Did you get back into the house 
without being caught, Tom?” 

The talk drifted aimlessly after that until the 
bell called them into church. 

As things turned out. Bob Hazard was saved 
the trouble of swimming the river to retrieve 
the canoe, for the next day, as the boys were cul- 


152 


TOM WICKHAM 


tivating with hoes, they heard a shout from 
the river bank. 

It was Whiskers. 

When they got to him they found that he 
had the Hazard towing behind the dugout. 

Saw it hanging to the bank and thought 
you chaps would like to have it,” was his 
remark as he stepped ashore. 

Bob was loudest in his thanks, because, while 
the swim across the river was nothing, the idea 
of the jaunt up the river bank with no clothes 
to protect him from the briers had not filled him 
with any great enthusiasm. 

Whiskers had been looking at the field of 
young corn as the boys chattered. 

Looks mighty healthy to me,” he said. 
“You fellows do it all?” 

“ Uh-huh,” Tom grunted to hide the pride 
he felt arising from the man’s praise. 

“Let’s look it over,” the latter suggested, 
striding off as he spoke. “ I know a little some- 
thing about farming and I might give you a 
pointer or so.” 

They circled the field. Whiskers in front, the 
others trailing behind. The man’s eyes took in 


THE LEVEE 153 

everything. When they came back to their 
starting place, Tom spoke inquiringly: 

Well?’’ 

That’s what I get for boasting!” cried 
Whiskers, laughing. '' I’ve got to confess that 
I can’t tell you chaps anything about farming, 
and from what I’ve just seen of your results 
you could tell me lots.” 

‘‘ Then you really think we’re on the right 
track? That there is a chance for us to win 
out?” put in Ned, eagerly. 

‘‘ You bet I do ! ” was the hearty assurance. 
‘‘ As far as the farming methods are concerned, 
I’m sure you are right. There is only one 
thing that worries me.” 

‘‘What is it?” chorused the boys. 

“Isn’t this mighty low ground? How about 
a freshet coming along and drowning your 
crop?” 

The hideous ever-present apprehension of the 
possibility of this disaster had been stilled some- 
what by the continued good behavior of the 
river. Yet, at Whiskers’ words, the fear came 
back to each boy and they knew that they had 
been fooling themselves with only a fancied 


154 TOM WICKHAM 

security. It was Bob Hazard who finally 
answered. 

‘‘ Yes/’ he said, slowly, '' it is low, and a 
flood, even a little one, would ruin us — ” 

‘‘ But it’s an even chance no overflow will 
come,” broke in Ned. The spring freshets 
are over and for many years there’s been no 
trouble during the summer.” 

‘‘ You are a plucky bunch, all right,” said 
Whiskers admiringly. '' I sure hope you’ll win 
out. But wait a moment; isn’t this bank we’re 
sitting on now high enough? It looks so to 
me. 

This part’s all right,” Tom explained. 
‘‘ Except in the very worst cases, it’s always 
out of water. It’s the south end which is most 
dangerous. That part down there, behind the 
clump of scrub pine.” He indicated the 
direction with a wave of his hand. 

Almost before Tom had finished his sentence. 
Whiskers was off in that direction. So sur- 
prised were the lads at this sudden move that 
they stood as if their feet were rooted to the 
ground. 

‘‘ Come on,” called Whiskers over his shoul- 


THE LEVEE 155 

der. Let's examine the weak spot in the 
defenses." 

When they reached the edge of the river the 
man was already there. 

You're right," he announced, after he had 
looked the place over. This is the weak link 
in the chain. The river bank must be six feet 
lower here than anywheres else and this level is 
about the same as in the middle of your field. 
Isn't that so?" 

‘‘ Yes," was the boys' sober reply. 

‘‘ It's like Holland or the Mississippi Valley," 
said Whiskers almost to himself. The fertile 
land is lower than the water level." As if 
awakening from a reverie, he turned to the 
boys. ‘‘ Why don't you use your spare time and 
build a levee here?" 

I reckon because — because we never 
thought of it," stammered Ned. 

We’ll do it now, then," was Tom's quick 
decision. In a flash he had seen the importance 
and worth of the idea and had acted. 

It will be good insurance," commented the 
man. “ I believe that with good luck — and 
such a levee as will make this part of the 


156 


TOM WICKHAM 


bank as high as the rest — you ought to be 
able to resist a medium freshet at least/’ 

But how ought it to be built? ” Bob wanted 
to know. “ There aren’t many stones near.” 

Don’t need ’em, son,” said Whiskers, 
becoming enthusiastic about the execution of 
his own idea. The thing to do is to pile up 
along this bank as much loose material as pos- 
sible. Then it should be covered with dirt. All 
your spare time can be used in shoveling. 
There’s a good thing to begin with now. Come 
on ; lend a hand ! ” 

What he saw was a scarred old log which had 
been left as a memento by the last overflow. 
Under the combined efforts of the boys and him- 
self it was rolled until it lay lengthwise to the 
river. Next a stump claimed Whiskers’ atten- 
tion — soon it joined the log to make the foun- 
dation of the Bear Island levee. A few stones, 
the half-rotted hulk of a flat-bottomed punt, 
anything and everything movable was added to 
the pile. 

"‘Tell me!” exploded Bob during a moment’s 
lull in the work. “There’s more to making a 
crop of corn than in just watching it grow.” 


THE LEVEE 


157 


The lengthening shadows told that the day 
was growing old. When they quit, a respect- 
able start had been made on the breakwater. 
Whiskers had worked with a will, keeping the 
boys laughing with his remarks. 

‘‘ This has been fun,’’ he asserted as the 
dugout was cast loose. ‘‘ I want to see a lot 
more progress the next time I come down, 
though.” 

“ You will,” they promised him. ‘‘ And it 
was sure fine of you to help us.” 

Don’t mention it,” laughed Whiskers, as he 
started to paddle away. ‘‘ Just dpn’t forget me 
when you need a farm hand again.” 


CHAPTER XIV 
THE FUTURE 

It was Bob Hazard who took the lead in the 
building of the levee. The other two meekly 
took his orders after they found that Bob, 
through some natural ability, always seemed to 
know the easiest and most practical methods of 
construction. For him, building was a gift, as 
to some people is given the ability to play the 
piano without instruction. Ned summed it lip 
one day when, after Bob had devised a system 
of leverage to move a great boulder, the boys 
sat down to rest. 

“ Got to hand it to you. Bob. You build 
dams ‘ by ear,’ just as Uncle Eddy plays the 
accordion. What you going to be — an 
engineer ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” answered the Northern boy, I am. 
It’s going to be tough on Dad, who wants me 
to be a lawyer and succeed to his practice, but 
158 


THE FUTURE 


159 


I guess he’d rather I’d be a good engineer than 
a hack lawyer. And I’d never make an indoor 
man. I want to live outdoors and make 
things ! ” His voice rang with determination. 

‘‘ I reckon you’ll be an engineer, then,” com- 
mented Tom Wickham. “ If you feel that way 
about it, nothing will stop you.” 

'‘What do you figure on doing?” returned 
Bob, anxious to turn the talking away from 
himself. 

" Farm,” Tom answered promptly. " But not 
in the shiftless way everybody around here does. 
I’m going to learn how first — that is, if we 
make the hundred-bushel crop.” 

" Don’t fret about that'' Ned put in. " Even 
if we don’t. Big Chris surely won’t hold to his 
threat of not letting you go to school.” 

" You don’t know Pop, and I do,” was the 
rueful answer. " Unless we make that crop — ” 
He sighed expressively. " But what about you, 
Ned, old man? Since this seems to be an 
‘ experience meeting,’ we’d better hear your 
ambition, too, and make it unanimous. What 
do you want to do?” 

. Tom did not hesitate a moment in putting his 


160 


TOM WICKHAM 


question to Ned. It was a proof of the latter's 
indomitable spirit that neither in word nor act 
did his two companions ever refer to his crip- 
pled condition. Ned had so often proved that 
wherever they went and whatever they did he 
was right with them, that they did not even 
think of trying to shelter him or make his por- 
tion of the task lighter. Any sympathy would 
have meant a serious break in their comradeship, 
for Ned could stand pain but not pity. Only he 
himself was allowed to speak of his loss. 

I don't just rightly know, fellows," was his 
answer, after some deliberation. ‘‘ Uncle Eddy 
is set on my going to Charlottesville and letting 
his beloved Alma Mater make a teacher of me. 
I've got two things against this plan; one is 
that it would be pretty hard pinching for 
Uncle Eddy to afford it, and t'other is that 
I'm not just exactly in love with books! 
Except adventure stories, I mean." 

Tom and Bob waited until their friend went 
on again. After a moment Ned spoke. 

I suppose teaching would be the best thing 
for me — but, fellows, even with one leg absent, 
I want an outdoor life, too, and — and I want 



The others raced up to Ned, catching up 
sandbags as they ran. Plop ! plop ! plop ! the 
bags fell into the breach. {Page 210.) 





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THE FUTURE 


161 


some real adventure — and to see the world.’' 

Of course, you do,” chimed in Bob. 

You’ll have it, too,” Tom asserted. 

“ I’ve thought and figured and reckoned — ” 
He broke ofif suddenly and started on a new 
line of thought: “You remember that tele- 
graph system we rigged up between the house 
and the barn? Yes? Well, fellows, I think 
that’s going to be the answer.” 

Tom shook his head. “ There isn’t much in 
railroading any more. It’s too easy; you sit in 
an office all day and the dispatcher does it all. 
Besides, how’d you see the world then?” 

“ I don’t mean railroading. Wireless ! ” 

This was an idea. The other two boys saw 
its possibilities in an instant. But Ned was 
going on. 

“ I got it when I read about Jack Binns of 
the Republic, That was an adventure! And I 
don’t see that it would have made any difference 
if he had had a cork leg — might even have 
been a help if he had had to swim for it,” Ned 
laughed, although there was a catch in his voice. 
The others joined in, but it was not a hearty 
effort. “ I’ve been practicing on the instru- 


162 TOM WICKHAM 

ment and I can send like a streak — it^s the 
receiving that bothers me, as there is no one to 
send to me, since we gave up fooling with it/* 
I’ll get right in practice, Ned,” promised 
Bob, ‘‘ and we’ll work with it every night. I 
think it’s a fine stunt. We might even rig up a 
wireless station of our own.” 

Haven’t we got enough stuff to do 
already?” inquired Tom, smiling. ‘‘Our crop 
and the levee ? ” 

“ Sure we have,” returned Ned ; “ but rainy 
days — ” 

“ I’ll help you then,” agreed Tom. “ I just 
didn’t want you to forget the big Job we’ve 
tackled. Well, now that our futures are all 
planned, supposin’ we go to work on that big 
stump. How shall we tackle it. Bob, since you 
are the engineer of this bunch? ” 

The levee grew under their hands and the 
long summer days passed quickly. Nature did 
the trick for the corn, which was now breast- 
high. Frequent shallow cultivations had been 
made in accordance with Mr. Elwood’s instruc- 
tions. That had all been 'done with hoes, too, 
as just when they needed it they found they 


THE FUTURE 


163 


could not hire Brother Eddy's cultivator. 
Hardly had one hoeing been completed before 
Tom would command their starting at the begin- 
ning and doing it all over again. But the results 
warranted all the hard work, they had to admit, 
for the field was an inspiring sight. Not a 
weed, and the soil was loose and moist, thanks 
to light rains at just the right times. Every- 
thing had conspired to help the corn ; the 
weather had been perfect. It was extraordinary 
how evenly the stalks had grown — almost every 
plant was equal to its neighbor; not as in most 
fields, where one portion would be strong and 
hardy and another weak and straggly, due, the 
boys were convinced, to bad selection of seed 
corn and unequal fertilizing. 

One day Big Chris made them another visit, 
probably impelled by curiosity and a desire to 
laugh again at what he felt sure was a foolish 
experiment. The young planters happened to 
be in a bunch when he strode up. 

‘‘Hello, Pop," Tom greeted him; “what do 
you think of our crop?" 

The big man became red in the face as he 
looked out over the field. His real desire to 


164 


TOM WICKHAM 


be just was having an awful battle with his 
preconceived decision that the boys would surely 
fail. 

'' Huh ? What d'ye think I reckon 'bout it ? 
Fair lookin' field — fair lookin,' I'll say that 
for ye, but t'ain't a-goin' to do ye no good, 
no-how, fur they ain't no field can make a hun- 
dred bushel to the acre! / ain't never done it! " 
as if that ended the argument. 

‘‘ But other folks have," asserted Tom. 

‘‘Did ye ever see 'em? Did ye ever see the 
crops ? " demanded Chris, heatedly. 

“ No, but I've read about them — " 

“Read 'bout 'em!" echoed Tom's father in 
exasperation. “And what does that prove? 
Books! I s'pose if somebody put in a book that 
if you boil your seed corn you could raise 
batter-bread, you'd do it," he ridiculed. 

“ You plant your crops by the almanac," Tom 
ventured to say. 

“ I plant 'em by the season — and common 
sense," he answered shortly. 

There was silence for a moment and then with 
a last snort. Big Chris stamped away, muttering 
under his breath. 


THE FUTURE 


165 


‘‘ Whew ! A lot of encouragement we’re get- 
ting, aren’t we? ” asked Bob of the surrounding 
atmosphere. 

Well,” said Ned, ‘‘ I think the best encour- 
agement we could have is the sight of that crop 
growing right under our noses. Since our first 
stalk came up I’ve watched every other patch in 
the neighborhood — I’ll bet both of you have, 
too — and there isn’t one that’s as good looking 
as ours right now ! ” 

‘‘ That’s so,” Tom said earnestly, “ but it’s 
up to the seed corn whether our healthy plants 
make grain or just run to stalk.” 

And it’s up to the weather if we are able to 
harvest the crop, once we’ve grown it,” inter- 
rupted Bob. ‘‘The levee will help, but I’m 
awful scared.” 

“ Best thing for that feeling is more work,” 
was Tom’s diagnosis. “ Haven’t you found any 
other weak spots in our defenses that we could 
plug up while we’ve got the chance?” 

Needless to say there wefe many points where 
industry would not be wasted should the catas- 
trophe, whose possibility was in the back of 
each lad’s mind, occur. If a freshet came, one 


166 


TOM WICKHAM 


which would overtop their levee, it would wipe 
out overnight all the results of their long labor. 
It was a horrible thing to contemplate and the 
only comfort they had was in the feeling that it 
was like a glorious race — a neck-and-neck 
finish between harvest and the coming of the 
flood. Even if they lost, the race would have 
been well worth the running. 

Soon after the boys had planted the field, they 
had carefully measured out an acre which would 
be their entry in the Government contest. It 
lay almost in the center of the field and was 
marked at the corners by sapling posts. Ned 
had been made the bookkeeper and he kept exact 
record of the expenditure of time and money. 
All this had to be entered on the blanks Mr. 
Elwood had sent, as on these records the results 
of the contest were based. The possibility of 
winning a prize was in each boy’s mind and it 
only made the danger of a sudden freshet more 
terrifying. 


CHAPTER XV 

BIG CHRIS ON THE TRAIL 


Whiskers had come down once or twice and 
after each of his visits the boys had felt 
encouraged and more hopeful about the general 
situation. The man had commended their levee, 
advised with them about it, and in every way 
had proved a good fellow. But he had never 
explained about himself; in fact, it seemed as 
if he had forgotten that he was living under a 
cloud of mystery. 

There was no regularity about his comings. 
The first intimation the boys would have of him 
would be a shout from the river bank, sometimes 
early in the day, other times close on dusk. 

Therefore, it did not surprise Ned and Tom 
to hear his cheery hail one morning soon after 
they had set to work. Bob Hazard had ridden 
Pony to the postoffice for the mail and had not 
yet joined his partners when Whiskers showed 
167 


168 


TOM WICKHAM 


up. He came over to them from the river bank. 

‘‘Hello, fellows. How’s things? Got a job 
for a laborer this morning? ” 

“What’s the matter with you?” Ned wanted 
to know. “Cave get too lonesome?” 

“ Call it that if you like,” laughed the man. 
“ Perhaps I just wanted to see your smiling 
faces. But again I must ask — do you want a 
farm hand? ” 

“Sure — if it’s you,” answered Tom. 
“ There’s Bob’s hoe — grab it and start.” 

“ Right you are. Boss,” was the answer, as 
Whiskers tackled the row nearest him with 
vigor. “What’s my pay?” 

Before this interesting subject could be dis- 
cussed, they were interrupted by the sight of 
Bob and Pony coming over the hill at a neck- 
breaking pace. Straightening up and leaning 
on their hoes, they watched a pretty piece of 
horsemanship. Disdaining the road, Bob turned 
the pony’s head toward the steep, stony decliv- 
ity and sat firm as a rock as his mount half 
slid, half scrambled down to the level ground. 

A little bridge over the dry gulley led to the 
Island, but it was far around to the side and 


BIG CHRIS ON THE TRAIL 169 

would mean a detour if Bob chose that route to 
get to the spot where his friends were standing. 
Evidently Bob's need for speed was great, for 
he headed straight for them. 

‘‘ Great day in the mornin’,” exclaimed Tom. 
‘‘ Old Bob must have whopping news, he's in 
such a hurry ! ” 

‘‘ Look, he's going to jump the ditch ! " yelled 
Ned. ‘‘Pony will never do it! Oh-h-h!" 

Just at that moment the speeding pony 
reached the edge of the gully. Bob had not let 
his mount’s stride diminish for a moment and 
as Ned gave vent to his exclamation, he lifted 
his bridle-hand. Horse and rider seemed to soar 
through the air. 

“He's made it!” cried Whiskers. “He's 
made — ” but his voice trailed off as he started 
on a run towards the scene of the jump. What 
impelled him forward was the fear that the 
boy and pony were injured. Although the little 
horse’s front feet had landed fair, he had seen 
the hind legs break through the crumbling edge 
of the bank. 

As he tore along, the sight of the struggling, 
scrambling animal lent wings to his heels, but 


170 


TOM WICKHAM 


before many strides he knew he was too late 
to help — the actors in the scene had disap- 
peared in the ditch. Visions of Bob lying 
crushed at the bottom, and Pony with a broken 
leg, filled his mind. 

Before he could verify his fears, a shout 
directed his attention and, turning, he saw a 
sight which brought great relief. 

The shout came from Bob, who was still in 
the saddle and apparently unhurt! 

Evidently Pony had kept his balance and, 
reaching the bottom of the gully, had taken 
advantage of the first possible place to emerge. 

By this time Tom and Ned had caught up 
with him. Whiskers noted, but Bob’s arrival on 
the heaving pony cut short any comments on 
the episode. Bob had much to say and was 
in a hurry to say it. 

Quick, Whiskers, beat it to your canoe ! 
Hustle! Big Chris is headed this way and he 
will see you. I’ve just passed him. After what 
the sheriff told him he’ll be suspicious.” 

‘‘What? What?” gasped the man, but sud- 
denly realizing the situation he started on a run 
for the bank of the river. 


BIG CHRIS ON THE TRAIL 171 


“ Start after him, fellows ! ” cried Bob, urg- 
ing the tired Pony into action. ‘‘ Pretend we 
are trying to catch him. Big Chris is probably 
in sight ! ” 

The others got the idea of Bob’s ruse at once 
and they began to run. When an emergency 
arose, Ned could make a wonderful spurt on his 
crutches and he made believe that this was an 
emergency. Bob on Pony of course was the 
quickest and he had a chance to say a word 
or two to their bearded friend, as the latter 
paddled off. He could do this with safety as 
the river was screened by underbrush from the 
sight of anyone approaching the Island from the 
high ground. 

''We’ll keep Big Chris off the scent!” was 
the way he began. " Don’t worry, but make 
for the cave as soon as possible. We’ll come 
up and tell you how things are as soon as we 
can! In the meanwhile you’ll just have to lie 
low.” 

" Good boy ! ” was Whisker’s answer as he 
shoved off. " I won’t forget this ! ” He wasted 
no more breath in talking, but dug his paddle 
into the water with a strength that made the 


172 


TOM WICKHAM 


unwieldy dugout seem to jump from the water. 

Tom and Ned joined Bob as the fugitive 
turned the first bend and a sigh of relief came 
from all of them that Whiskers was safely gone 
before Tom’s father could reach the scene. 
Their respite was short-lived, however, for a 
moment later Big Chris burst through the 
bushes to find the boys launching their canoe. 
They seemed to him to be greatly excited. 

'' Gee, Dad,” said Tom, we almost had that 
man you were telling me about t’other night! 
He came up to Ned and me and wanted some- 
thing to eat. When Bob arrived on Pony, he 
decided we were strong enough to make it hot 
for him and he beat it! Has a canoe too — a 
dugout.” 

And we’re just going after him ! ” put in 
Ned. Hurry up, fellows, or we’ll never catch 
him! We can talk later.” 

Big Chris spoke and from what he said the 
boys knew that he had no suspicion of their 
being mixed up with the mysterious stranger. 

I reckon I’d better go along with ye. Might 
get in a hole and need me. Them criminals are 
desprit when they are caught.” 


BIG CHRIS ON THE TRAIL 173 


Bob read a consenting look in Tom’s eyes and 
replied: ‘'We’d be glad to have you. That’s 
fine! Get in, sir. Ned, will you stay here and 
watch out for him? There is only room for 
three in the Hazard'' 

Ned could hardly repress a grin as he con- 
sented. It would be a lot easier staying behind 
than paddling Big Chris on a wild goose chase. 
He felt sure that Tom’s father would not give 
up the hunt until the last moment, and that 
moment would not come until both Tom’s and 
Bob’s backs were too tired to paddle another 
foot. Therefore, he waved the canoe a cheery 
good-bye, as it started down the river. 

It was a matter of constant play-acting for 
the two boys who accompanied Chris. They 
had to be on the watch every minute for a 
man they knew to be miles upstream. Tom’s 
father made the boys tell him over and over 
again just what had happened when the man 
had come to the Island. The description they 
gave was confusing; it could have fitted Big 
Chris himself as well as Whiskers. 

It was not until well into the afternoon that 
the farmer accepted the fact that their quarry 


174 


TOM WICKHAM 


had escaped. He took it rather badly, because 
he had been so sure that he would be the one 
to claim the reward — and five hundred dollars 
cash is a big sum of money to a renting farmer. 

Once the fact was established, however, he 
made up his mind to the inevitable and was 
almost good company on the return trip — 
except when he made remarks about the crop. 
The boys gave him his first lesson in paddling 
and, once he got the knack of it, he made the 
light craft fly over the water. His strength was 
enormous; a legend of the countryside had it 
that in his youth he had broken a bull’s neck 
by the power of his arms alone. 

Ned was waiting for them at the Island and, 
naturally, had nothing of interest to report. Big 
Chris got out and stretched his cramped legs. 

I’ve been thinkin’ o’ this pretty hard,” he 
announced, an’ I figger t’would be foolishness 
to let folks know as we have seen the man. I 
reckon if anybody can ketch him, I can, so I 
want ye all to lay low an’ say nothin’. Under- 
stand? ” 

This was playing into the boys’ hands. They 
were delighted. 


BIG CHRIS ON THE TRAIL 175 


‘‘ Yes, sir! And can we help you hunt? 

“ Mebbe so. That there liT boat will come in 
handy, but the main thing I want from ye is to 
keep your eyes skinned an’ come an’ tell me 
if ye strike up against anything new. An’ — an’ 
if I get the reward. I’ll do something nice 
for ye ! ” 

When the old man was well out of hearing, 
the boys let go of their pent-up feelings and 
laughed long and hard. But Tom sobered them 
with a remark. 

‘‘ We got Whiskers off this time and I’m glad 
we did it, although it doesn’t seem quite right 
to fool Pop. What I’m wondering is what we 
are going to do if Pop starts hunting up the 
river? He will find Whiskers, sure.” 

Whiskers will have to leave, that’s all I 
can think of,” vowed Ned. ‘‘ What rotten luck 
it was that your father should have come down 
this way to-day ! ” 

I vote we don’t do anything for a day or 
two until we see whether Big Chris gets tired 
after he hunts around down the river,” put in 
Bob. That will give us a little time to decide 
on the best plan to follow.” 


176 


TOM WICKHAM 


As this sounded reasonable, the boys went 
home. A couple of days later, Tom came to 
the Island, his face radiating happiness. 

'' It's all right, fellows, it's all right ! " he 
cried. 

‘'What's all right?" Bob wanted to know. 

“ Pop and Whiskers and everything. Last 
night he came home from a chase he had made 
way down the river, and someone told him that 
his man had been seen the day before in Hen- 
rico County." 

“That's good!" Ned exclaimed. 

“ Wait, there's more. Besides, Pop came 
across a dugout lying against the river bank 
three miles below the spot where we turned back 
the other day and he's sure that it must be the 
one our man deserted. It's lucky for Whiskers 
that the last freshet took away somebody's per- 
fectly good boat 1 " 

“And — and it means that your father has 
given it up as a bad job and that Whiskers is 
safe?" asked Ned, stammering a little in his 
excitement. 

“Yep! Great, isn’t it? We'll go up and 
tell Whiskers about it in the morning. He can 


BIG CHRIS ON THE TRAIL 177 

wait until then. Just now the corn needs 
hoeing ! '' 

But it was not necessary for them to take 
the trip the next day. Before the sun grew 
really hot, a shout from behind the brushes lin- 
ing the Island's edge proclaimed the fact that 
Whiskers had come to them instead of their 
going to him. Fearing a repetition of the scene 
of a few days before, Bob stayed on guard in 
the field while Tom and Ned went behind the 
trees to confer with their friend. 

First of all, I want to thank you for getting 
me away so cleverly," were the words he greeted 
them with. ‘‘How did you do it? It was 
mighty important that I was not caught and had 
to establish my identity. I suppose the whole 
country is out looking for me right now, 
isn't it?" 

Tom hastened to tell him the good news; that 
for the time at least he was safe. 

“ That's fine," said Whiskers. “ For it will 
give us a chance to do something I've come to 
propose to you. Something important, too, or 
otherwise I wouldn't have taken the risk of 
leaving the cave." He laughed. “ As I paddled 


178 


TOM WICKHAM 


down, I imagined the woods were full of folks 
whose one object in life was to find — me! Call 
Bob, I want him to hear this too 1 

When Bob came, Tom asked the question they 
all wanted answered. 

‘‘WhaCs up?^^ 

Adventure — possibly,'’ said Whiskers im- 
pressively. 

Fine I Bully! Great!" chorused the lads. 

Are we in on it ? " demanded Bob. 

That's what I came down to find out ! " 

We are then!" 

Good ! " was Whiskers' comment. Good, 
because I need your help. Do you remember 
what you came to warn me of, Tom? That 
the sheriff was on my trail?" 

Yes, sir. I'll never forget it," cried Tom. 

Well, I think that the real fellow they were 
hunting is up the river, in the swamp, not far 
from my cave." 

''He hasn't been caught, then?" Bob 
exclaimed, drawing a long breath. 

" No, we'll do that," asserted Whiskers, 
confidently. 

" But — but," hesitatingly said Ned, " you 


BIG CHRIS ON THE TRAIL 179 


don't believe in putting people in prison, do 
you? Remember what you told us that day 
up-river? You don't want us to help you 
catch him? " 

Yes," said Whiskers slowly, ‘‘ I do want 
you chaps to help me catch him, but it doesn't 
naturally follow that I want to turn him over to 
the authorities. Understand me, I don't mean to 
say that one should shelter a criminal against 
the law. It's not the law I quarrel with, but 
the methods of punishment the law uses. I 
think a man would be reformed a whole lot 
quicker if he were put to work on a farm, 
received a certain amount of trust when he 
deserved it, and was paid for the work he does, 
than the way it's tried now. Prison walls, work 
in shoe shops — and the contractors get all the 
money. . . . But I'm preaching, and that's 

a had habit. What I want to know is: Will 
you chaps help me?" 

Bob led the others in assenting eagerly. The 
idea of a man-hunt was exciting, fascinating. 

‘‘ Hop in the canoe, two of you," commanded 
Whiskers. ‘‘ T'other one can come with me in 
the dugout. We'll make better time that way." 


CHAPTER XVI 
THE POST OF DANGER 


The canoes proceeded up the river in single 
file, the dugout in the lead. Not until the party 
had landed at the cave’s mouth did Whiskers 
announce his plan of campaign. 

He’s not far away from us,” he began 
when all were seated. “ In fact, I think that 
he’s quite close, because I’ve come on his tracks 
all around here. But to round him up it will 
be necessary to enter the swamp from several 
places at once. Otherwise he would be able to 
slip by. That’s why I needed you fellows.” 

Hadn’t we better get started?” asked prac- 
tical-minded Tom. “ If dark catches us, it 
won’t be easy work plowing about in the 
swamp.” 

Right you are, but a good plan is necessary 
to every general. The first thing to decide on 
is what direction would a hunted man take, 
180 


THE POST OF DANGER 


181 


supposing we surprised him in the swamp 
between here and the river? I don’t think he 
will want to swim the river, as it is probable 
he carries his store of matches with him, and 
he could not afford to get them wet. Granted 
that, I should think he’d strike inland, and this 
dry land here would probably attract him. On 
that chance. I’m going to give you the post of 
honor, Ned. You are to stay here and stop 
him if he comes this way.” 

For a long moment Ned looked earnestly at 
Whiskers, trying to decide whether this was not 
a ruse to leave him in a safe place out of the 
way. However, the serious look in Whiskers’ 
brown eyes assured him that he was being 
allotted an honorable portion of the venture. 

‘^As you say. Captain,” he answered. 

“ Here’s my automatic,” said Whiskers. 

It’s loaded, but don’t use it except as a last 
resort and as a signal if you sight him. If you 
do see him, shoot three times quickly.” 

'‘What are we to do?” put in Bob. 

" We’ll do the beating up that will flush our 
quarry from his hiding place. Tom, you’ll come 
up from the river, while Bob and I circle from 


182 


TOM WICKHAM 


the north. It will take you just about the same 
time to get to your point as it will us. But 
wait a minute. Got a watch ? ’’ 

Yes — dollar one — keeps railroad time, 
though.’’ 

Good. It agrees with mine. Just so there 
won’t be any mistake, wait until twelve-fifteen 
before starting into the swamp. We’ll do the 
same. Here’s a rifle, but don’t use it unless 
you have to. Off with you now ! ” 

Ned Moseley watched his companions out of 
sight with mixed emotions. It hardly seemed 
possible that the man they sought would make 
his way to the cave — that he would choose 
this path from all the rest open to him through 
the trackless forest. Yet, the confidence bred 
by the assurance that had been in Whiskers’ 
voice was so strong that his doubts fled. 
Besides, when he had scrambled up the cliff and 
found a point of vantage in the old trench, the 
curious formation of the land made it seem 
quite possible that the fugitive would come his 
way. The land on which he stood, while small 
in extent, was the only considerable piece of 
solid ground anywhere near. It stuck up from 


THE POST OF DANGER 


183 


the surrounding swamps as an island in the sea. 
There was reason to believe that the man would 
welcome, if only for a few steps, a change from 
the soggy going through the morasses which 
had been his refuge. 

But could he capture his man, even if the 
chance was proffered? Ned did not know, but 
he did know that he would do his best should 
the chance come. 

Several times there came noises which turned 
out to be false alarms. Once his heart stood 
still as a brown shape flashed out of the brush 
and stopped with a splash in the shallow water 
of the creek. But one glance sufficed. It was 
a specimen of the deer which are growing so 
scarce in our Southern states, a short-tailed doe. 
She was so beautiful that Ned positively gasped. 
A second later, startled by some noise too slight 
for human ears, she was gone, leaving the 
silence unpopulated. 

It was a long wait, and as the afternoon 
dragged along, its drowsy warmth affected the 
boy's eyelids. Not daring to move, he was all 
the more subject to its influence. 

Suddenly he jerked wide awake. A crackling 


184 


TOM WICKHAM 


noise quite close to him had broken the stillness. 
Ned turned, but before his eyes could tell him 
anything, he felt strong hands on his shoulders. 
A moment later he had been pulled over back- 
wards, felt himself fall through space, and 
then — blackness ! 

Meanwhile the others were not having any 
too happy a time. To splash about a Virginia 
swamp, infested with small reptiles and the 
deadly moccasin is no fun. Especially is it 
unpleasant when you are not successful in find- 
ing the object for which you are braving its 
dangers, whether ’possum or man. 

That they had been unsuccessful was proved 
when the bedraggled trio met on the little beach 
in front of the cave after a couple of hours of 
search. 

See any signs of him?” called Whiskers, 
as Tom came up to the group. 

“ Nope,” was the disconsolate answer. ‘‘ But 
I found four blacksnakes, a water-moccasin and 
two copperheads. Whew ! I don’t like that 
many snakes in one afternoon. You have any 
luck? ” 

‘‘Jumped a doe, that’s all. Not a sign of 


THE POST OF DANGER 


185 


our man. I must have figured it out wrong, 
for we surely covered every bit of the swamp. 
Wonder if Ned has had any adventures. He 
ought to be near us. Ho, Ned ! ’’ and Whiskers’ 
voice rang out in a lusty shout. 

But there was no answer. 

Again he cried out. Then all joined in and 
strained their ears for an answer. As the 
echoes ceased to reverberate and no hail 
rewarded their efforts, they looked at each 
other, apprehension showing in their faces and 
sinking deep in their hearts. 

‘‘ He’s not here ! ” Bob cried. What — ” 

‘‘ I shouldn’t have left him alone,” confessed 
Whiskers bitterly. ‘‘ But I felt this was the 
safest place. It would never have done to let 
him paddle about the swamp.” 

‘‘Sure!” Tom said. “You were right in 
that, but something has happened to him. The 
first thing for us to do is to hunt all over this 
piece of high ground — ” 

“ Come on,” said Whiskers. 

But before they separated, Tom asked hur- 
riedly: “What made you think the man was 
hiding in the swamp. Whiskers?” 


186 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ Because his tracks all led into it/' returned 
the man. I'd been off for a couple of days 
on a fishing trip and when I came back, I found 
I'd had a visitor who had helped himself lib- 
erally to my store of food. I tracked him, and 
every trail led into the swamp ! " 

‘‘ That's why you thought it would be safe 
here for Ned?" asked Bob. 

Yes. I guessed that if we jumped our 
man he would never make for here, as he knew 
the cave was inhabited, and he’d believe that 
someone would be on guard.” 

Tom Wickham had been thinking hard as 
Whiskers was talking. When the latter had 
finished, he spoke: 

I think I know what happened — " 

‘‘You do?" Whiskers broke in. 

“ Yes. We've never told you how we rescued 
Ned that first time? " 

“No, but what's that got to do with it?" 

“ A lot, I reckon,” exploded Tom. “ It seems 
to me the fellow we’re hunting put one. over on 
you ! He wasn't in the swamp at all ! " 

“ What ! " cried Whiskers in amazement. 

I Here Bob put in his oar. 


THE POST OF DANGER 


187 


‘‘ This doesn’t seem to be helping old Ned 
any, all this talk,” he cried anxiously. ‘‘ What 
does it all mean?” 

‘‘ If I’m right, it will help, you can bet on 
that,” said Tom shortly, because we’ll need a 
plan of action. . . . Whiskers, there is a 

cave behind yours, and also a tunnel that leads 
from it to the top of the cave ! ” 

‘‘There is? Was that how you got Ned 
out?” 

“ Yes, but we’ll tell you all the details later. 
My guess is that our man happened on the 
back cave while you were away and fixed up 
his tracks to make you believe he’d gone away 
again, and all the time he meant to stay right 
where he was, close to your supplies — ” 

“ That sounds plausible. He could come out 
at night and I’d never know it. But what 
about Ned?” 

“He’s been captured! Probably he’s in the 
gun chamber right now — ” 

“Gun chamber? What do you mean?” 

“ When we get Ned out, you’ll see. The 
important thing now is to make sure whether 
I’m right. Bob, you stay in the cave and 


188 TOM WICKHAM 

watch the hole in the roof over the bed. 
Whiskers and I will go up the cliff/’ 

When they separated, Whiskers followed Tom 
up the cliff, expressing his astonishment when 
he was told of the opening that led into the 
tunnel right over his bed. 

‘‘ It’s a wonderful piece of work on Nature’s 
part,” he panted. ‘‘All the months I’ve been 
there I’ve only noticed a depression in the 
rock, which did not seem important enough to 
investigate. I hardly ever took my lantern 
back there, or perhaps I might have seen it.” 

When they reached the trench, Tom ran 
down it until he came to the spot where the 
entrance to the tunnel had been found. So 
cleverly had it been covered with brush that 
he almost fell in it. 

“ I’m right. Whiskers, I’m right ! ” he exulted. 
“ Someone’s been around, because we left the 
hole wide open when we were here last.” 

Whiskers began to examine closely the ground 
surrounding the tunnel’s mouth. 

“ All this has been freshly disguised,” he 
stated. “ There must have been a struggle and 
the ground torn up. It’s cleverly done and 


THE POST OF DANGER 


189 


would deceive the casual glance, but I see sev- 
eral dents made by Ned’s crutches. Ned is in 
that hole, all right, and — it’s my fault.” 

The big man felt his responsibility very 
deeply, but it did not blind him to the fact 
that something must be done at once. Throw- 
ing off his coat, he made ready to plunge down 
the shaft. 

‘‘Wait,” cautioned Tom; “don’t do that. I 
reckon there’s a better plan if we can dope it 
out. If you go down now, our man is probably 
on the watch and he will have the better of 
you because the tunnel is small and you won’t 
be able to move freely. Don’t you think so? ” 

The man had to admit the wisdom of this. 

“ You seem to be running this stunt,” he said, 
“and I think you are doing it better than I 
could. Let’s have your idea.” 

“ The first thing to do is to block this entrance 
so tight that it can’t be opened from inside. 
Then we can go down to the cave and let Bob 
in on our planning.” 

A large log and a couple of boulders solved 
the problem, and a few moments later they had 
joined Bob in the cave. The latter had nothing 


190 


TOM WICKHAM 


to report, but he was anxious about Ned. After 
Whiskers had told him what he and Tom had 
learned on the cliff top, he asked: 

But — but what if the man has — has killed 
Ned?’’ 

Whiskers hastened to reassure him. 

‘‘An embezzler very rarely has the nerve to 
murder anybody, because he is really not a 
vicious criminal, but only a weak sort of chap 
who can't resist temptation. Ned’s all right as 
far as his health's concerned.” 

This was heartening to the boys, but in reality 
Whiskers was not so sure that his words were 
true. Feeling himself to blame for what had 
happened, he pictured to himself all sorts of 
terrible things that could have occurred to the 
lad who was missing. 

“What do you plan next?” was Bob's 
inquiry. 

“ Tom's got an idea, and as he knows the lay 
of the land I think we ought to hear it. Go 
ahead; let's have it.” 

“ All right, then. In the first place, I don’t 
believe Ned's jailor has found the passage lead- 
ing into this cave yet, and if that’s so I think 


THE POST OF DANGER 191 

we've got a chance to get Ned and capture our 
man at the same time." 

In a few words, Bob and Tom explained to 
Whiskers how the two passages ran from the 
gun chamber, and that it was only by chance 
that the one leading into the cave had been 
discovered. 

'' I see," he said at last, when he had the 
layout in his mind. And your plan, Tom, is 
to attract our friend's attention in the upper 
passage while a couple of us gain the mysterious 
gun chamber and thus cut off his escape ? " 

'' That's it," exclaimed Tom. Do you think 
it will work? " 

‘‘ It will have to," was the determined answer. 

I don't know any better plan. Show me the 
entrance here in the cave." 

Whiskers gasped with astonishment when the 
boys proved to him that the irregularity in the 
roof of the cave really hid a passage. 

‘‘All right," he said; “now for it. I'll go up 
and coax our rabbit into, the tunnel — " 

“ I know that's the most dangerous part, but 
you are needed a whole lot more in the chamber 
when he backs out," objected Tom hurriedly. 


192 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ We must not take any chance of his being able 
to get away. He will surely fight like a wildcat 
when he’s cornered and then you will be in 
demand where there is room for your strength, 
ril do for up there. Besides, Fm smaller and 
can dodge about in the passage easier.” 

As Bob started to put in his claim for the 
honor of the most dangerous post, all three were 
electrified by a sharp hissing sound which came 
from over their heads. 

With one accord they all jumped, so unex- 
pected had been the noise. Whiskers turned 
the rifle he was still holding on the hole in the 
roof, thinking that their quarry had found the 
passage and had surprised them. Then came a 
chuckle and a well-known voice. 

‘‘Don’t shoot, fellows, it’s only Ned!” And 
with that Ned’s face appeared in the opening. 

For a moment their relief to find their friend 
safe and sound was so great that they could say 
nothing. Before their questions came, Ned 
spoke quickly: 

“ I’ll tell you all about it soon, but right now 
I want you all to follow me back to the gun 
room and meet the Duke of Wellington!** 


CHAPTER XVII 

THE AUDIENCE WITH HIS GRACE 

This astounding request was dumbfounding 
to Ned’s hearers. The Duke of Wellington! 
Was the boy crazy? They plied him with ques- 
tions until, in order to get them started, he 
had to explain: 

‘'He’s insane! The loneliness of dodging 
about the country and swamps since he escaped 
has made him go loony. Thinks he is the Duke 
and is perfectly happy because he has captured 
me — says I’m Napoleon. Me, Napoleon! And 
it’s the embezzler all right, because he rambled 
about Roanoke and the bank. Finally I got 
away by saying I’d bring back with me Marshal 
Ney, Talleyrand, and the King of Rome, to do 
him honor. So come along, Ney, King and 
Talleyrand, to the audience! I’m not hurt — 
my story will wait.” 

The change from the tragic to the ridiculous 
193 


194 


TOM WICKHAM 


was too sudden for laughter. Ned squirmed 
around and headed the other way. Whiskers 
gave Bob and Tom a leg up and then swung 
himself into the passage. 

The way was familiar to the boys, but to 
Whiskers it was strange. Also, he felt a little 
foolish to think that all the time he had inhab- 
ited the cave this tunnel was right over his 
head and he had never known it. 

When the path broadened, they found that 
the chamber was somewhat illuminated by the 
fitful light of an old lantern. The object of 
their interest was, however, the man who was 
seated on a pile of old muskets. 

Even in the uncertain light it was possible to 
get a fair sight of the man who had given 
them so much worry. He was small, almost 
frail, and the ragged growth of beard looked 
strangely out of place on the face that carried 
two staring eyes. His head was round and 
rather large, and a fringe of gray hair circled 
his bald pate as a coral island surrounds a 
lagoon. 

As they filed in, he waved his hand in silent 
greeting. Ned went forward and spoke: 


WITH HIS GRACE 


195 


Your Grace, as I promised, I brought 
these vassals of mine to render homage to you. 
It is your due after licking me so badly to-day 
at Waterloo!” 

‘‘ You have done well, Bonaparte. Let them 
advance,” the little man returned in a voice 
which from want of use was squeaky. Not a 
bit disturbed was he by the sad lapses from 
court speech indulged in by Ned, or the fact 
that Napoleon never lost a leg at Waterloo, no 
matter what else he lost. 

Bob was the first. Advancing with a bow, 
he dropped on one knee. 

I, the King of Rome, do acknowledge thee 
as War Lord.” 

At a grave nod from the unfortunate little 
man, Tom took Bob’s place. 

‘‘And I, Talleyrand, shall be your slave.” 

It was Whiskers’ turn. Although he knew it 
was wise to humor the poor fellow, he thought 
the foolery had gone far enough. A plan to 
get poor Simson out of the cavern came to him 
in a flash. 

“ Oh, Wellington, it is my good fortune to be 
the first of your countrymen to congratulate you 


196 


TOM WICKHAM 


on your tremendous victory. I am honored, 
although it was not my fate to fight at your 
side. The King of England, God bless him, 
has sent me as Envoy Extraordinary to tell you 
of his great obligation to you and to summon 
you to England at once to receive the marks of 
his signal appreciation. Does it please you to 
start? ” 

Simson rose and extended his hand, not a 
whit dismayed that Marshal Ney had turned 
out to be somebody else. 

“ My good Pitt, our sovereign does me too 
much honor. But I will go.'’ 

The crazed brain of the Duke saw nothing 
incongruous in the manner of emerging from 
his refuge. Helped from behind by Tom and 
pulled along by Whiskers, he came through the 
tunnel and was finally disposed on Whiskers' 
pallet. A moment later the sound of his regular 
breathing told that sleep had claimed him. 

Whiskers and the boys had moved to the 
front of the cave, to find that dusk had come 
upon them. 

It looks like rain," said Tom. ‘‘ Thunder 
storm, I reckon; it's been hot enough all day." 


WITH HIS GRACE 


197 


The group settled down by the cave’s mouth 
and discussed the strange happenings of the 
day in low tones. The thing of most interest 
was Ned’s recital. He told of his long wait and 
then his being suddenly attacked and lapsing 
into unconsciousness. 

‘‘ I woke up as I was being dragged through 
the tunnel into the gun chamber. Then I knew 
what had happened. The Duke must have come 
up out of the hole and seen me. As I was quite 
close to the tunnel’s mouth, it was an easy 
matter for him to pull me back into it. The 
landing must have knocked the wind out of me. 
When we got to the gun room and he began to 
ramble in his talk and call himself Wellington, 
I — I just naturally thought of calling myself 
Napoleon. After that he was all right; all I 
had to do was to be properly humble. When I 
suggested going for Ney and t’other s, I didn’t 
really figure on bringing you back with me. I 
just reckoned it a way to escape.” 

But this way we’ve got him, too ! ” put in 
Bob. 

“Yes, but what are we going to do with 
him? Can’t very well keep him here!” 


198 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ No/’ said Whiskers, ‘‘ we mustn’t keep him. 
The best thing will be to turn him over to the 
authorities — ” 

‘‘What!” exploded Tom. 

“ Keep your shirt on,” cautioned Whiskers 
with a smile. “This poor chap is sick — sick 
in mind — and it will be best for him if he is 
taken to a hospital. The State does not harm 
its insane. I wish I could make them see that 
all criminals are insane, and have them cured 
instead of treated as beasts. But, what do you 
know? — it’s raining! ” 

It was no thunderstorm, for the rain came 
down gently, in fine streams, hardly making any 
noise. A little breeze stirred. 

“ That wind is from the east, boys,” said 
Whiskers. “ First easterly storm this summer. 
How about your levee?” 

“ It’s as good as we can make it,” was the 
answer, as fear settled on each boy that the 
time of trial was at hand. “ Do you think this 
is going to be a big storm?” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder. It’s always bad when 
it comes from the east. How about your corn? 
High enough so it can stand a flood?” 


WITH HIS GRACE 


199 


‘‘ Not by a long shot,” answered Tom. “ It's 
all tasseled, and some of it is making ear, but 
the way that water rushes over the Island would 
soon put it all down flat — and it's good-bye 
corn crop.” 

“ Well, cheer up. Just as likely it will stop 
before morning. That reminds me; do you 
boys have to get back to-night ? ” 

“ Since we’ve had the canoe,” answered Ned, 
“ no one worries unless we are away two 
nights.” 

Then I guess you'd better bunk here 
to-night, as I'm afraid it would be pretty hard 
going home without a moon and the storm 
growing. Better have a fire, I guess.” 

When a blaze was started and a pot swung 
for cooking supper, they went back to their talk. 

‘‘ If we take the Duke back and give him up 
there will be a reward of five hundred dollars. 
Do you think you'll take it?” asked Bob of 
Whiskers. 

‘‘Me take the reward? What have I got to 
do with it?” 

“ You found him. The reward’s yours.” 

“ Not for a moment. If it's claimed, it 


200 


TOM WICKHAM 


belongs to you boys — particularly Ned. He 
did the work!’’ 

Don’t let’s worry who gets it. The ques- 
tion is, should we claim it?” put in Tom, a 
little puzzled as to the ethics of the matter. 

Whiskers hesitated, then pronounced: ‘‘Yes, 
I think it would be fair to take it. If we did 
not claim it, some sheriff would, without deserv- 
ing it at all. That would do no one any good. 
But we’ll decide definitely later when we get 
the poor chap in safe hands. Now tell me about 
the gun chamber. I can see how it helped you 
to get Ned away from me. That was a joke 
and it was entirely on me/' 

Supper was ready before the story about the 
gun room was told. Soon after they bunked 
in as best they could on the hard floor of the 
cave, but not before Whiskers had told them 
he thought their find of the relics in the cave 
would be even more profitable to them than the 
reward offered for their prisoner. Any museum 
would be crazy to have them. 

A little later they slept, and the rain, increas- 
ing in violence, made sleep-music as it fell. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE FRESHET — AND A SURPRISE 

Tom awoke shortly after dawn to look out 
on a scene that made his heart sink. A glance 
showed him that the stream which ran in front 
of the cave had swollen until it was a foot 
higher than its normal level. 

He woke the others to share his fears. The 
rain was coming down in sheets and, besides, 
the wind from the east, which last night had 
been but a breeze, whistled through the trees in 
a fury. 

'' We must get to the Island,” was Tom's 
decision, ‘‘ and get there quick.” 

‘‘ You’re right,” agreed Whiskers. ‘‘ We’ll 
get the Duke covered up as much as possible 
and then start.” 

What,” cried Bob, ‘‘are you coming, too?” 

“ Of course ! ” exclaimed the man. “ Do you 
think I’d desert you now? Every bit of help 
may be needed — that crop must be saved if 
201 


202 


TOM WICKHAM 


there is a human way to do it! And we'll have 
to take the Duke, as he can't stay here alone, 
that's sure." 

They wasted no time in getting ready. All 
their energy was expended in getting back to 
their beloved corn. 

The Duke was installed in the dugout and 
covered against the wet with everything avail- 
able, each of the others contributing some article 
of his own clothing. Consequently, they had 
hardly started before all were thoroughly, 
soppingly wet. 

Their charge was easy to handle, for since 
he had been put to bed he had stayed in a sort 
of coma, hardly noticing what was being done 
with him. Whiskers had an explanation ready: 

He couldn't stand the loneliness and the 
horror of the woods, so he went crazy. Now, 
when he has human beings around him, he is 
content to be cared for. Poor chap, he must 
have had a hard time of it." 

It was an exciting trip back to the Island. 
Once an especially ferocious gust of wind came 
along and tore a great limb off one of the wild 
locust trees that bordered the river, flinging it 


THE FRESHET 


203 


into the stream. It missed the stern of the 
boys’ canoe by inches. If it had fallen a 
moment sooner it would have smashed the craft 
and the boys with it. So intent were they on 
reaching the Island, however, they hardly com- 
mented on their narrow escape. 

The level of the big river was not so easily 
affected by the rain as had been the little stream 
which ran in front of the cave, yet it was easy 
to see that there had been enough rain to make 
a perceptible difference. Whiskers did all he 
could to cheer up the boys as they landed on the 
Island, yet the apprehension of disaster bit deep 
into them. He saw that the only thing that 
would help was to keep them employed — if 
their hands were busy their minds would have 
some rest. 

‘‘ Whose house is the nearest? ” he demanded. 

Mine,” said Tom. 

Right. Then we’ll take the Duke there. 
Tom, you and Bob take him along, while Ned 
and I make the canoes safe.” He hesitated a 
moment, then : Have you chaps any bags — 

grain sacks or canvas ones that cement comes 
in?” 


204 


TOM WICKHAM 


No/’ they answered. Why? 

“ I just happened to think that bags filled 
with dirt are mighty handy to stop water, if 
the river should find a weak spot in our levee. 
I used them out in Colorado once, when the 
dam I was building — ” He stopped short, as 
if biting off an indiscretion. 

Pop’s got a lot of cement bags,” said Tom, 
finally. He bought ’em cheap from a railroad 
contractor who was busted; but he’s never had 
time to turn ’em in — but, shucks, he wouldn’t 
give ’em to us. I know him.” 

‘‘ You’ve got to get them,” asserted Whiskers. 
‘‘ They will be worth their weight in gold if the 
water comes as high as I think it will — ” 

It was Ned who interrupted. 

‘‘ You say 1 deserve the reward for catching 
the Duke. Does it belong to me if we collect 
it?” 

Yes,” the others chorused, although sur- 
prised at his sudden cupidity. 

“ All right, then, it’s mine. And now I want 
Tom to offer it to Big Chris for the bags! ” 
Whiskers led the whoop of appreciation of 
the generous offer. 


THE FRESHET 


205 


‘'Well, don’t I want to see my crop saved? 
What’s so generous about that? ” Ned demanded 
as they crowded around him. “ Hustle along. 
It’s not fair to the Duke; he’s sick enough now 
without getting wet through.” 

Supporting the sick man between them, Bob 
and Tom led him slowly oflf towards the high 
ground. 

A little later Whiskers and Ned were inter- 
rupted in making a minute examination of the 
banks of the river for a weak spot in the 
defenses, by a shout and the clatter of horses’ 
hoofs on the bridge leading from the mainland. 
They looked up to find Tom urging towards 
them his father’s team, which was hooked up to 
the dump wagon. 

“I — I made him do it ! ” he exulted, as he 
pulled up. “ And got the loan of the team to 
bring the bags down. I brought shovels, too.” 

Then Whiskers took charge. He directed 
where the bags were to be put, dividing them 
into piles at each strategic point. Tom then 
took the team back, carrying with him orders 
to return as soon as possible. 

Still it rained, and still the wind blew; yet 


206 


TOM WICKHAM 


so hard did Whiskers work the boys that, 
instead of being down-hearted under their wet 
clothes, they were almost cheerful. 

The first thing that had been done was the 
erection of a river gauge. Whiskers had cut a 
pole, skinned off the bark and laid off regular 
notches along its length. This was securely 
placed upright in the river and lashed to the 
branch of an overhanging tree. It was Bob's 
duty to report the gain the water made each 
hour. 

Then began the real work. All the bags were 
to be filled and Whiskers saw that they were. 
Not that any of the boys needed urging, but 
the man’s cheery encouragement lightened the 
back-breaking labor of shoveling. 

All day long the rain never slackened. If 
anything, it grew worse. Each report that Bob 
made as to the stage the water had gained on 
the gauge. Whiskers entered into a notebook. 

At noontime Bob Hazard had gone up to 
the Big House and had brought food to them. 
His going had been slow, but Pony brought 
him back like the wind. 

All during the afternoon the little horse had 


THE FRESHET 


207 


stood, with its tail to the storm, ready to carry 
anyone on an emergency errand. His attitude 
was dejected, yet resigned, as if he figured it 
all a necessary part of this queer summer. 

As the figures in Whiskers’ notebook regis- 
tered gain after gain in the level of the water, 
the boys worked feverishly. 

At five in the afternoon half the bags were 
full and the river was rushing by only four feet 
from the top of their levee. Whiskers was grave 
but his smile was on tap when needed. 

‘‘ Don’t worry, fellows ; it will come out all 
right.” It encouraged them mightily. Besides, 
Whiskers had worked with a will, shoveling, 
inspecting, lending a hand where it was most 
needed. 

He sent them to gather large quantities of 
light wood and pine knots as dusk closed in. 
This he distributed along the banks. 

“ We’ll need light and warmth all night, boys. 
It’s going to be some night ! ” 

Then the rain stopped almost as suddenly as 
it had begun. The wind kept blowing, but only 
long enough to clear the sky of clouds. The 
moon shone, but the fires were needed. 


208 


TOM WICKHAM 


The boys were exultant. 

It’s all right now ! ” they cried. We’ve 
won out!” But their joy was cut short by 
Whiskers : 

‘‘ I’m sorry, old fellows, but the battle’s only 
begun. The rain has stopped, but it will be 
hours before the river drops. All the little 
streams up-river are just collecting the water 
now that will come swirling past here shortly. 
Bob, read the gauge again.” 

When Bob came back he found a solemn 
group awaiting him. 

“ It — it’s only two — two feet from the 
top!” 

Whiskers put the figures in his book and 
arose. 

Now, lads, comes the fight. We will each 
take a stretch of bank to patrol. If there is 
danger, yell and all of us will bring sand bags 
until the weak place is safe. I wish we could 
have filled more — about how many are left 
empty? ” 

“About a third, I reckon,” answered Tom 
quietly. 

“Well, it can’t be helped. We have done 


THE FRESHET 


209 


what we could. Besides patroling, it's the duty 
of each to keep the fire nearest him going. 
Understand? " 

Yes, sir," came the ready answer, and they 
scattered to their stations. 

To someone not vitally interested, the scene 
must have been wonderful. A ring of light 
given by the dancing flames of the fires placed 
at intervals, the shadows of the boys pacing 
their beats beside the rushing water, and over 
all the calm moon, undisturbed by the clash 
of elements against the will of man. 

Slowly, agonizingly, the water crept up and 
up the bank. The two-foot leeway was cut 
to one foot at the lowest spot. The steady 
encroachment of the enemy with whom they 
could do nothing was heart-breaking to the 
boys. 

Suddenly a shout of alarm broke the air. It 
was Ned. A thin rivulet of water had worked 
its way beside a root and in an instant had 
become a stream, cutting a breach in his wall. 

The others raced to him, catching up sand 
bags on the run. Plop! plop! plop! the bags 
fell into the breach. The water slackened. 


210 


TOM WICKHAM 


finally stopped, and then sullenly slipped by the 
new wall that had been reared. 

Hardly were they back at their posts when 
Whiskers called. The enemy had found a weak 
place in his beat. Another rush of activity and 
it, too, was conquered. 

‘‘ She’s still gaining,” Whiskers called after 
them, as they returned to their beats. ‘‘ But 
more slowly now. We’ve got a chance, fellows.” 

Again and again they conquered the invading 
water. Exhausted, spent, they rose to new 
efforts, refusing to be beaten. The river 
still rose, but by fractions of inches, slowly, 
hesitatingly. 

‘‘ The turn must come ! ” cried Whiskers. 

It’s got to ! Hold on a little longer. 
Buck up!” 

He tongue-lashed them to further heroic 
deeds. They could not falter with him back of 
them, encouraging, urging, working like a giant 
himself. 

After one particularly violent struggle, the 
terrible conviction came that there were but 
few more bags filled, ready as ammunition for 
use against the enemy. 


THE FRESHET 


211 


All right, fellows,’' shouted the man, we’ll 
have to double our beats and the others fill bags. 
I’ll start.” 

The next overflow almost caught them nap- 
ping, and the supply of bags fell short; but at 
last the water was conquered. Another break 
would surely be too much for them. 

Reckon it’s got us,” said Bob shortly. “ But 
it’s been a good fight.” 

‘‘Buck up! We’re not beaten until it hap- 
pens,” cried Tom grimly. “If only we had 
some filled bags — ” 

At that moment Ned chanced to look up from 
his work. Straightening up, he shouted: 

“ Look, everybody ! Someone’s coming over 
the hill ! Maybe it’s help ! ” 

“ Nope,” answered Tom. “ It’s Pop coming 
down to crow over us.” His tone was very 
bitter. 

But the swaying lanterns proved that there 
were more people coming than just Big Chris. 
When they came into the circle of firelight the 
leader proved to be John D. Elwood. Behind 
him was Brother Eddy and the two negro hands 
from the Big House farm. Farther in the rear, 


212 


TOM WICKHAM 


somewhat abashed, was the hulking form of Big 
Chris. All were armed with shovels. Elwood 
wasted no words. 

Came to help ! Reckon you need it. What’s 
the weak spot?” 

Just then a shout came from Whiskers, who 
had been at the levee when the newcomers 
arrived. 

‘‘The levee, boys! Quick! Your shovels!” 

So amazed was Tom at the sight of his father 
hurrying with the others to the danger spot, 
that he could hardly move. But when, after 
gathering his faculties, he reached the levee and 
found his father doing the work of two men, 
strengthening the dam, he was perilously close 
to tears. 

“ What do you know about Pop ? ” he asked 
himself, as his tired arms flung shovelful after 
shovelful of dirt. “ What do you know about 
Pop?” 


CHAPTER XIX 


WHISKERS — ALIAS STEVE WHITNEY 

The encounter at the levee proved to be for 
the river what the Battle of the Marne was to 
the Germans, for it spent its last strength 
there and then had to drop back, beaten. The 
unexpected reinforcements had come in the 
nick of time. 

For a long time the water held its last level, 
doggedly holding on, hoping to gather new 
strength with which to overwhelm the barriers 
that each moment were rising higher against 
it. At last, however, a shout from Bob Hazard 
told the panting group that the gauge showed 
the water had receded two inches. 

‘‘ Whoopee ! ’’ yelled someone. They turned 
to find that the exuberant person was none 
other than Big Chris. When the latter realized 
he was the object of everyone’s attention he 
tried, unsuccessfully, to look unconcerned — as 
213 


214 TOM WICKHAM 

if the shout had come from anyone else except 
himself. 

‘'You can’t fool me, Pop!” cried Tom, rush- 
ing up to him. “ You are glad we won out, 
aren’t you? You proved it when you came to 
help us.” 

“ No — ” growled the big man. ‘‘ Still think 
it a passel o’ foolishness. But I sure hated to 
see a good crop drownded — goes against the 
grain, sorter. Besides, this here young feller is 
responsible — coming and blackguarding me to 
give ye a hand.” 

This brought attention to John Elwood. But 
it was Brother Eddy who explained: 

“ Yes, I’m afraid it was Mr. Elwood who 
brought us to a sense of what we ought to do,” 
he began, speaking slowly in his musical voice. 
‘‘ We did not think to give the boys a little help 
when they most needed it, until Mr. Elwood 
fortunately happened in and saw in a glance 
how matters were. It was he who got the men 
together and who roused up Big Chris here. 
Aren’t you glad now he did, Chris, old fellow? ” 

‘‘ Can’t say as I be,” was the ungracious reply, 
but the tone was trembly. 


WHISKERS— STEVE WHITNEY 215 


We*re certainly much obliged to you all, 
Mr. Moseley,’’ stated Tom, and to Mr. Elwood, 
too, but the man we must thank most is — is 
Whiskers!” 

“ Whiskers ? ” echoed the group. Who is 
Whiskers? ” 

‘‘ The man who really saved our crop, who 
has worked with us all night and who first 
planned the levee. Come along. Whiskers, and 
meet — ” 

They had moved from the levee after the 
battle was won to one of the fires. At Tom’s 
call. Whiskers, who had forgotten in the excite- 
ment of the battle that he was again mixing 
with his fellowmen, started back. He was not 
quick enough, for a flash from a pine knot, 
which had just caught fire, lighted up his face. 
With a half-startled exclamation, Elwood leaped 
forward and, catching Whiskers by the hands, 
pumped them up and down vigorously. 

‘‘Steve!” gasped Elwood. “You old war- 
rior, is it really you?” 

“ Johnny ! ” was Whiskers’ exclamation. 
“What are you doing here? After me? I 
never thought it would be you who found me ! ” 


216 


TOM WICKHAM 


'' Well, you certainly needed finding, all 
right,” returned the other. What have you 
been up to ? ” 

Hiding,” answered Whiskers, alias Steve, 
tersely. ‘‘ When Pat Gilligan framed up that 
case on me before the commission — ” 

‘'Yes — yes, I know all that,” cried Elwood 
impatiently, “ but that’s all over and done with. 
They got to the bottom of it, and of course you 
were cleared — ” 

“ What ! ” yelled Whiskers. “ Pm clear ? 
You mean it?” 

“ Of course. You don’t mean to say you 
haven’t heard of it?” 

“ Not one word. I — I knew that if I could 
keep out of the way until the August rains my 
old dam out there would prove me right — and 
Gilligan wrong! If I’d stuck around Washing- 
ton something awful would have happened to 
me by then. It’s been lonely hiding, but the 
boys have helped.” 

Tearing himself away from his friend. 
Whiskers spoke to the boys who had been 
watching the scene curiously. 

“ Fellows, it’s all right,” he called out. 


WHISKERS— STEVE WHITNEY 217 


Everything is in fine shape. I can tell you 
all about it now/’ 

That there was a connection between their 
friend Whiskers and the Government agricul- 
tural agent was the mystifying thing to the 
boys. “You are a friend of Mr. Elwood?” 
stammered Bob of Whiskers. 

“ You can bet we’re friends,” volunteered 
Elwood, before the other had a chance to reply. 
“ Went to college together and entered the 
Government service together — he, engineering; 
and I, farming.” 

“ And we thought the Government was after 
you!” chuckled Ned. 

“ It was. It certainly desired the presence in 
Washington of Stephen Whitney, Resident 
Engineer, U. S. Reclamation Service, now in 
your service, but the said Stephen believed he 
was better off in Virginia.” 

“ Tell ’em all about it,” urged Elwood. 
“ They won’t sleep till they hear it, if I’m any 
judge.” He was backed up by the boys. The 
negro farm hands, after being thanked for their 
help, went home singing. Brother Eddy decided 
to stay, and, curiously enough, so did Big Chris. 


218 


TOM WICKHAM 


He wouldn’t own up to being curious, and 
explained: ‘‘You folks are all tuckered out, 
and when you get finished with your talk you’ll 
want to sleep. Somebody's bound to look after 
the crop in case the water gets rambunctious. 
Might as well be me, I reckon.” 

Big Chris had had a hard and puzzling day. 
First, the gift of the prisoner, which practically 
meant five hundred dollars, had jolted his idea 
of generosity. Then, the warm feeling that help- 
ing the boys had brought to him, was disquiet- 
ing. The impulse to be kindly persisted, and 
the only remnant of respect for himself that he 
could cling to was to do his kindnesses in a 
grudging and gruff manner. But it pleased him 
when he was asked to be one of the group to 
listen to Whiskers’ story. 

Before the latter began, however. Brother 
Eddy asked how the boys had made Whiskers’ 
acquaintance. Bob rapidly sketched the events 
that had spread out over the summer, so that 
everything was clear to the whole group. When 
he had finished, Tom spoke up: 

“ Now, Whiskers — I mean Mr. Whitney — 
go ahead.” 


WHISKERS— STEVE WHITNEY 219 


'' All right, Tom, but let me tell you I like 
that name of Whiskers. Keep on calling me by 
it. It will remind me always of three mighty 
plucky boys. I hope you will like me as well 
after I’ve shaved them off. But, to my story, 
which isn’t so very wonderful: 

‘‘ In the first place, the Reclamation Service is 
designed to add new fertile areas to the farm 
lands of the United States. We build dams, 
construct irrigation projects that make gardens 
of deserts, orchards out of sun-beaten stretches 
of sand. It’s good work. 

But there are drawbacks. There are some 
people who believe that all Government projects 
are started for the express purpose of letting 
them graft — and the reclamation projects are 
no exception to this rule. I had charge of a 
dam construction in Colorado last year. It was 
going fine. I was proud of it, sure of its worth 
as the concrete grew higher and higher. Then, 
little by little, things began to happen which 
aroused my suspicions. The concrete was poor, 
although the cement sacks were those of the 
reputable firm to which I’d given the contract. 
My assistants were transferred and new ones 


220 TOM WICKHAM 

I did not know were sent to me. At last one 
day one of the contractors, Pat Gilligan, came 
and attempted to bribe me to pass some rotten 
work. I wouldn’t ; made him do it over and pre- 
ferred charges against him. But I was too late ; 
he had determined to be revenged on me, and 
had, through his pull, got me first. In a report to 
the commissioner he said that I was in on the 
deal for the inferior cement and — so strong 
was his pull with the politicians at Wash- 
ington — that he railroaded through the case 
against me. 

When I was summoned to appear, I refused 
to go, as a friend had told me what a wonderful 
case Gilligan had manufactured against me. 
Instead, I slipped off to the cave up the river 
here, which I had run across on a hunting trip 
a year or so before. I knew, and only I knew, 
just how violent that stream out there would be 
when swollen with the autumn rains. It was 
a matter of record to just what height the dam 
had risen under my superintendence — and I 
was sure that it would not suffer in comparison 
with that which was built after I left. It seemed 
to me pretty sure that my part would stand 


WHISKERS— STEVE WHITNEY 221 

while Gilligan’s was swept away. When that 
happened, I could come back, my work having 
proved my case. If Ed showed up when they 
wanted me, all sorts of dire things would have 
happened, probably, and my vindication would 
have come when it was too late. That’s about 
all my story, as Johnny Elwood says it’s all 
cleared up now.” 

‘‘ It is,” repeated the latter. ‘‘ You might just 
as well have come to Washington, for Gilligan 
slipped up on some important details, and the 
commissioner pounced on him. It would have 
saved you the rotten summer you must have — ” 

‘‘ I’ve not had a rotten summer,” asserted the 
engineer. “ It’s been good sport since I met 
these young disciples of yours. If I hadn’t been 
worried about the dam, it would have been 
ideal.” 

‘‘ You needn’t worry about your beloved old 
dam,” said Elwood. ‘‘ It’s safe enough. When 
Gilligan showed himself up, they sent old Tad 
Adams out to sit on the job until you came 
back. You’d better hustle out there if you 
want to be in time for the dedication services. 
Tad’s a hustler!” 


222 


TOM WICKHAM 


Whiskers was happy; it was easy to see that. 

‘‘ You bet ril go, just as quickly as I can. It 
will be great to get back on the job again. 
Whoopee ! ’’ He was boyish in his enthusiasm. 
‘‘ But ril be sorry to leave before I know the 
crop is all right.’’ 

The boys hung expectant on Elwood’s answer. 

You needn’t worry about that,” he said 
earnestly. ‘‘ If all of it is like the few stalks 
I’ve seen here at the edge, this crop will be a 
prize winner ! ” 

Do ye mean to say that this here crop is 
goin’ to measure up more’n a hundred bushels 
to the acre? ” the incredulous voice of Big Chris 
rasped. 

“ I certainly do ! ” was the confident answer. 
“Why not? A hundred bushels isn’t much.” 

“Isn’t much?” snorted the old man. “It’s 
plumb impossible. Don’t believe it, no sir! Do 
you. Brother Eddy?” 

“ I just can’t rightly say,” was Mr. Moseley’s 
comment. “ Mr. Elwood seems to know, and 
I do not think he would say anything of which 
he was not sure.” 

Finding no support, Big Chris stamped off 


WHISKERS— STEVE WHITNEY 223 


without further comment, to look at the river. 

While Whiskers had been telling his story, 
Bob Hazard had followed every word. He 
seemed to live every moment with his friend 
and at the mention of the dam he was sure that 
dam-building was the one thing he wished to 
do in the future. Farming was all right, but 
the big projects were the things that stirred his 
imagination. Spurred by his enthusiasm, he 
stammered : 

Is — is there any — anything that a fellow 
can — can do out on a dam job like that?’’ 

Whiskers turned and looked at him. 

‘'You like the idea. Bob? Does it make you 
anxious to help a waste place to become green? ” 

“ Yes — yes! ” cried Bob, his eyes shining. 

“ Then, Johnny, I guess you’ve lost a disciple 
and I’ve gained one,” said Whiskers, laughing, 
to his friend. “ Bob wants to desert the hoe 
for the transit.” Then answering the boy: 
“Yes, there is work for a boy to do — work 
that will help him when he starts studying to 
be an engineer.” 

Bob said nothing, but a determination to 
spend his next summer with Whiskers became 


224 


TOM WICKHAM 


rooted in him. The talk grew desultory and 
Brother Eddy interrupted: 

I hope, sir, you will make the Big House 
your home for as long as it is convenient for 
you? I think that all of us could do with 
some rest.'’ 

It will give me great pleasure to accept your 
hospitality," returned Whiskers, falling natu- 
rally into the formal language with which Mr. 
Moseley always surrounded anything to do with 
the hospitality of his house. ‘‘ It will be a great 
treat to sleep between sheets once more." 

A little later the Island was deserted except 
for the lonely figure of Big Chris, who paced 
the banks, watching the dark water slip by. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE ESCAPE 

In spite of his exhaustion from the violent 
exertions of the preceding day and night, Tom 
Wickham awakened and was waiting patiently 
on the stoop of the Big House before any of 
his friends appeared. 

‘‘ Hello,’’ he called, as Mr. Elwood and Ned 
came out of the door. I reckoned you were 
going to sleep until to-morrow morning.” 

‘‘What time is it now?” asked Mr. Elwood. 

“ ’Bout four in the afternoon. You-all rnust 
have slept twelve hours.” 

“ I could sleep twelve more if I was sure that 
the corn is all right — ” said Ned. 

“ Go back to bed, then, go back to bed,” 
laughed Tom, interrupting. “ It’s all there and 
the river is down two feet.” 

“How do you know?” a new voice carried 
the inquiry. It was Whiskers ; but for a moment 
Tom and Ned recognized only the voice, for 
225 


226 


TOM WICKHAM 


when they turned they saw a strange clean- 
shaven young man coming out of the door. 

‘‘Why — why, you’re almost good-looking!” 
stammered Tom. And Whiskers led the laugh 
that greeted the sally. When the merriment 
died down, the latter repeated his question: 

“ Seriously, Tom, how do you know things 
are all right? ” 

“ Tve been down there,” Tom said. “ I woke 
up early and couldn’t go to sleep again until I 
knew/' 

“ That’s the proper spirit ! ” cried Elwood. 
“ Was your father still there? ” 

“ Yes, but as the water level was getting 
below the bottom of any of our levees, he was 
about ready to go back to his work. “ ‘ Good 
stand o’ corn,’ ” he said to me, “ ‘ but don’t ye 
think for a minute you scamps are goin’ to crop 
a hundred bushel — an’ don’t think I take any 
stock in these doin’s beyond tryin’ to save sinful 
waste — ’cause I don’t 1 ’ ” 

The knowledge that all danger was past 
lightened the hearts of the group and they 
chuckled over the last stand that Big Chris was 
making against the attack of modern methods. 


THE ESCAPE 


227 


“ Don’t worry, Tom,” said Elwood. '' All the 
signs point to your being your father’s partner 
next year — and the crops will be grown your 
way.” 

Bob Hazard created a diversion by coming 
out of the house rubbing his eyes. 

‘‘ You’ll have to get along with less sleep 
than that, if you’re to be an engineer. Bob,” said 
the whiskerless Whiskers, with a smile. ‘‘ The 
Reclamation Service never sleeps.” 

‘‘ I’ll learn, then,” returned the Northern boy. 
wasn’t sleeping just now; I was uncon- 
scious — as if someone had hit me over the 
head with a club ! ” 

The bunch laughed. 

‘‘ A good excuse, old man,” said Steve Whit- 
ney, a mighty good excuse, but you’ll have to 
be able to overcome little things like that if you 
are going to be my rod man next summer — ” 
‘‘What!” almost yelled Bob Hazard. “You 
want me to be with you next summer ? ” 

“ Yes — if you want to come.” 

“Want to come?” The boy’s voice showed 
that that was what he wanted above everything 
else. “ You just bet I do 1 ” 


228 


TOM WICKHAM 


“When I saw how you took to building the 
levee I knew that farming would not hold you 
long.” 

“ Careful, Steve,” laughed Elwood, “ don’t 
take away all my disciples.” 

“ No fear,” returned the other. “ Tom and 
Ned are with you.” 

“ I am,” put in Tom, “ but I don’t think Ned 
is so sure, are you, Ned?” 

“ Until this crop is in.” Ned did not confess 
just what his plans for the future were. 

“ I am satisfied with having Tom remain 
faithful,” said Mr. Elwood. “ I feel sure that 
nothing will ever seem so attractive to him as 
making things grow. He and I feel the same 
way. Go on, Steve, with your plans for Bob.” 

“ Well, the instinct for building is not given 
to everyone, and when somebody comes along 
who’s got it, he ought to be helped. When 
next summer comes, I’ll have a place for Bob 
on my corps, no matter where I am.” 

“ Then I’ve got the instinct? ” questioned Bob, 
his eyes shining. “ It’s what I’ve wanted to be 
sure of.” 

“ No doubt about it,” asserted Steve Whitney. 


THE ESCAPE 


229 


‘‘ No doubt at all. But you’ll have to study 
hard all winter and pay especial attention to 
logarithms. Won’t he, Mr. Moseley?” he 
finished, appealing to the old gentleman, who 
now joined the group. 

The next day Whiskers and Elwood left 
Crossways together, the former anxious to get 
back to his beloved dam and the latter drawn 
by his duty to the other Corn Clubs he had 
organized throughout the State. The boys saw 
them off, a little sad at losing the man with 
whom they had had so many adventures. Bob 
Hazard, however, felt that the winter would be 
pleasant, since he had the promise of the sort 
of job he wanted for the next summer. 

I thought you wanted to go fishing with 
your Dad this summer,” observed Ned slyly, 
after he and Tom had listened to a long recital 
of what Bob imagined the next summer would 
hold for him. Don’t you think it will be just 
as much fun next year ? ” 

'' Dad can come out to the job if he wants 
to fish,” returned Bob, impertinently. I guess 
Whiskers will let me off once in a while.” 

Ned and Tom nearly exploded with laughter. 


230 


TOM WICKHAM 


What a change had come over their chum! Tom 
could understand Bob’s enthusiasm, for he felt 
the same way about farming. It was Ned who 
was just a little downcast because no road 
seemed to lead to the thing he wanted to do. 

Tom happened to look down the road which 
led from his father’s place to Crossways. The 
boys were sitting on their favorite top rail of 
the fence just outside the schoolhouse. 

Great day, fellows ! I wonder what Pop is 
coming up here for in such a hurry.” 

The others looked too and saw Tom’s father 
covering the intervening ground with long 
strides. A moment later he called to them and 
they set off to meet him. Big Chris’ first words 
were startling. 

He’s escaped!” 

“Who? Who?” the boys wanted to know, 
on edge with interest. 

“ Simson — that — that Duke feller — he’s 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE CHASE BEGINS 

This was news with a vengeance. So sur- 
prising was it that for a moment or two the 
boys could not ask any questions. Big Chris 
supplied enough information, however, to 
make up. 

“ He seemed so porely and ill I figger’d yer 
mother could handle hin^ I turned the key in 
the lock an’ left him. Didn’t go fur but when 
I came back, he was gone! Slipped out o’ the 
winder, I reckon; that’s what it seems like 
to me.” 

Oh, we’ll get him back,” said Ned. ‘‘ Weak 
as he is, he can’t have gone far 1 ” 

“ It ain’t gettin’ him back what’s pesterin’ 
me,” returned the old man, ‘‘ but I’ve done gone 
an’ told the sheriff to tote around his reward 
and tote away the pris’ner. He aims to come 
in the mornin’ and I ain’t got the pris’ner to 
turn over. When he finds I ain’t got him he’s 
231 


232 TOM WICKHAM 

certain sure to start out to hunt the Duke him- 
self an’ if he ketches him, he’s goin’ to git that 
reward. I won’t see a copper of it ! ” 

There was truth in what Big Chris said and 
the boys knew it. It was a bad mess and each 
tried to think of some way out of it. A sudden 
idea struck Ned and he blurted out: 

I’m sorry, Mr. Wickham. You gave us 
those cement bags for the island in return for 
the Duke and now you haven’t the reward, and 
we’ve had the bags — ” 

‘^That ain’t your fault,” returned the big 
man. He spoke rather ungraciously. I let 
him git away. You handed him to me an’ if I 
couldn’t keep him, that’s my fault. But I want 
to know what sort o’ tale I’m goin’ to tell 
Sheriff Beasley.” 

Ned had to admire Big Chris. No matter 
how great a disappointment came to him, or 
how much it cost him, Chris Wickham could be 
counted on to be just. Up to this time he had 
not been generous but he would not take 
advantage of anyone or expect more than was 
his just due. Ned’s thoughts were interrupted 
by a suggestion from Bob. 


THE CHASE BEGINS 233 

‘‘If we could only get him back to-morrow 
before the sheriff gets here — ’’ 

“ Surely, surely,’’ was the farmer’s rather 
contemptuous interruption, “ if we could get the 
moon — ” 

Bob Hazard was but little abashed, for he 
came back at once to the attack: 

“Well we might! Don’t you think so, fel- 
lows? We’ve still got about three hours of day- 
light to hunt in. Besides, I don’t think he 
could have gone far. When we brought him 
down from the cave he was mighty weak.” 

The other boys agreed. 

“ We might as well get on the job. Pop,” 
added Tom. “ We’re wasting a lot of valuable 
time whether we find him this evening or not ! ” 

“ Do you think he went back to the cave, 
Tom?” put in Ned, as they all started in the 
direction of Big Chris’s farm. 

“ Perhaps. But the first thing to do is to 
see if we can find any trace of him around the 
house. Let’s hurry.” 

Bob Hazard had been thinking over Ned’s 
suggestion as to the possibility of the Duke’s 
returning to the cave. 


234 


TOM WICKHAM 


'' I think Ned may be right/’ he said. I 
vote we split forces. Ned and I will go up to 
the cave in the canoe, while you, Tom, and your 
father see what you can find around your house. 
We’ll come back and meet you there about sup- 
per time.” 

That’s a bully idea,” agreed Tom, ‘‘ though 
I don’t figure he’s gone back to his old hang- 
out. No man in his right senses would.” 

‘‘ But Simson isn’t in his right senses ! ” cried 
Bob triumphantly. 

Grave as the situation was, the boys laughed 
and even Big Chris smiled a little. 

Anyway,” added Bob, he might believe 
that the cave would be the last place we would 
think he’d go to — ” 

Ned, who had been saying very little, now 
came into the conversation with suddenness. His 
eyes were shining with the fire of his 
imagination. 

'' Gee whizz ! P’raps — p’raps he left some- 
thing in the cave and felt he had to get it! 
Maybe he had some of the stolen money with 
him and when we got him out he forgot it, sick 
as he was. It’s like treasure hunting!” 


THE CHASE BEGINS 


235 


‘‘ Jake Beasley didn’t say anything ’bout 
any money,” commented Tom’s father. ‘‘ I don’t 
reckon you’ll find any more treasure than ye’ll 
crop a hundred bushel o’ corn.” 

This rather scornful remark did not bother 
Ned and Bob much, for they had come to the 
Crossroads and were hurrying off in the direc- 
tion of the Island before Big Chris was half 
through his speech. 

The others gone, Tom felt it better policy 
not to argue with his father about the corn 
crop. When harvest came the facts would speak 
for themselves and anything he said now was 
only likely to anger the old man. Therefore he 
brought the discussion back to the chase of the 
missing bank embezzler. 

‘‘Did you look around for his tracks. Pop?” 

“ I searched around the house an’ barn an’ 
then took out straight for ye boys. I reckoned 
ye’d want to help ! ” 

“ Sure, we do ! ” was the answer. 

“ We should be able to find his tracks, sure 
enough,” said Big Chris, after a short pause. “ I 
reck’lect that I took his shoes away. He’s got 
to be agoin’ barefoot if he’s agoin’ at all ! ” 


236 


TOM WICKHAM 


Then that makes it easier, Pop. We’ll find 
out which way he went.” 

By this time father and son had reached their 
farmyard. Without a word Tom raced over to 
the foot of the big tree which stood so close 
to the house. It was the same tree that had 
made possible his midnight journey through the 
swamp to warn Whiskers of danger. Hardly 
any grass was growing around, both on account 
of the shade the big tree afforded and the fact 
that the large number of chickens the farm 
boasted, scratched and pecked at their will. This 
treatment is very discouraging to grass. 

After a moment’s scrutiny, Tom shouted to 
his father: 

I’ve found his tracks. Dad ! He came out 
of the window all right. Hurry up and come 
along. He started off this way.” 

His eyes bent on the ground, Tom led the 
way across the yard in the direction of the barn. 
The footprints were easy to distinguish in the 
beaten path, as they were the only marks of 
bare feet. Once past the barn, the trail grew 
harder to follow, for the path was narrower and 
the footprints only appeared at intervals. At 


THE CHASE BEGINS 


237 


first Tom was a little puzzled and then he knew 
the reason. The Duke was weak and therefore 
he staggered. This accounted for the lapses 
in the marks he left, but there were enough to 
show that Simson had kept to the general direc- 
tion of the path. 

On Tom went, his father following patiently. 
The path ran towards the low grounds but to 
a portion of them that was some distance away 
from the island. Before they reached the fertile 
ground which was flooded by the freshets, a 
single track railway had to be crossed. 

On the other side of this track, Tom could 
find no further traces of the man they were 
seeking. 

'' He’s used the railroad just like the Indians 
waded along a brook when they wanted to throw 
people off the scent ! ” exclaimed Tom. 

Big Chris growled his disgust. What are 
we goin’ to do now ? ” he wanted to know. 
‘‘Can’t we follow the railroad?” 

“ That’s what we’ll have to do. But the only 
trouble is that we don’t know which way to 
go. He could have gone either.” 

“ I Agger that one way’s as good as t’other,” 


238 


TOM WICKHAM 


decided Big Chris, who evidently thought Tom 
had been the leader of the expedition long 
enough. ‘‘ You walk along one side of the track 
an’ ril take t’other and then we can see when 
he leaves it for the woods.” 

Tom had no better plan, so they started to 
the north, examining carefully every foot of the 
ground they covered. After going perhaps a 
mile. Big Chris grew disgusted and suggested 
that they go back and work towards the south. 

Dusk came on them and they were forced to 
give up the search with nothing accomplished. 
As they walked back toward the house, Tom 
realized that the disappointment his father felt 
was big — that the older man had evidently 
counted greatly on the possession of the money 
which would have been his if he could have 
turned Simson over to the authorities. 

I’m awfully sorry. Pop,” he ventured, as 
they neared the house, awfully sorry. But 
we’ll win out to-morrow, don’t worry ! ” 

Big Chris so far forgot himself as to pat the 
boy on the shoulder. With the memory of that 
slight token of tenderness, Tom did justice to 
the supper set before him. 


THE CHASE BEGINS 


239 


His chums had not returned from their 
expedition to the cave by the time supper was 
over, and Tom did not feel he could leave the 
house until they showed up. 

While he waited, Ned and Bob were having 
adventures of their own. 

When they had separated from Tom and his 
father, the two boys made as much speed as 
possible towards the island where the canoe 
was kept. By the time they were paddling 
upstream, Ned had converted Bob to his idea 
that while their trip might not result in any 
news of the Duke, yet there were other pos- 
sibilities of adventure. They did not talk much, 
for haste was essential, as little daylight was 
left. Talking would take breath and they 
needed all the wind they had to battle with the 
current. The river had not entirely recovered 
from the effects of the storm which had so 
nearly cost the boys their crop and all the labor 
which had gone into its making. The current 
was still strong and they were in constant 
danger of collision with the driftwood which 
the swollen river had picked up and was whirl- 
ing along to leave it stranded miles below. 


240 


TOM WICKHAM 


Great day ! exclaimed Ned, as they came 
in sight of the cave. It sure looks deserted 
since Whiskers left ! 

Bob agreed. 

They pulled the Hazard up on the bank and 
explored the cave. Before leaving, Whiskers 
had made a trip there and brought away all 
the things he felt were of value, but at that he 
had left quite a pile of discarded things in one 
corner of the cavern. 

Ned was examining this pile when he gave 
a whoop of joy. 

“ What is it? called Bob, from the entrance. 

Found a gold mine? 

‘‘ Pretty nearly as good!’’ was the answer. 

Here’s that old lantern the Duke had and 
there’s some oil left in it still.” 

“That’s fine! It will be a lot more useful 
than our old candles if we want to go into the 
gun chamber.” 

“ Of course we’ll want to go there,” Ned 
cried. “ You can just bet on that! ” 

“ All right, all right, we’ll go then, but I think 
we had better take a look around the mouth of 
the tunnel up on the cliff. That’s the way the 


THE CHASE BEGINS 241 

Duke would try to get in if he has come back 
up here/' 

Ned saw the wisdom of this and suggested, 
‘‘ Well, then, you go up and see what's to be 
seen. I'll try and clean up this old lantern 
while you're gone ! " 

It was not long before Bob was back. 

Nothing doing up there," he reported. 
‘‘ Hasn't been anybody there since the rain. I 
guess that the Duke wasn't able to swim the 
swollen river even if it was his plan to come 
back here." 

‘‘ Shucks ! " cried Ned at last. I don't 
believe that he even tried to swim the river. 
Anyhow, it can't be helped if he did. Come on, 
let's see what we can find in the gun chamber. 
I've got a hunch there's something waiting 
for us." 

He lighted the lantern and while it was no 
searchlight, it gave a very satisfactory glow. 

Let's try to get through this way," pro- 
posed Ned. It is shorter to the chamber 
if we can only manage to climb into the hole 
in the top of the cave." 

Bob gave Ned a leg up and after much 


242 


TOM WICKHAM 


scrambling the latter got into the passage. It 
was Bob’s turn, but try as he would, he could 
not reach far enough to grasp Ned’s helping 
hand, which was thrust from the opening. 

‘‘ Go ahead,” Bob said at last, when he 
realized after several tries that he could not 
get up this way. ‘‘ I’ll go around to the top 
entrance and meet you in the chamber.” With 
this, he started off. 

His previous trips through the tunnel now 
stood Bob in good stead, for he was able to 
go ahead with perfect assurance as to what 
lay before him. Therefore, it was not many 
minutes before he saw the glimmer of Ned’s 
lantern around a turn in the passage. 

‘‘Found anything?” he asked, as he came 
out of the narrow tunnel and stood upright. 

“ Not yet,” returned Ned hopefully, hardly 
looking up from the job he was engaged upon. 
He was moving one of the piles of muskets that 
were stacked against the wall of the chamber. 
“ But this bunch of guns looked as if it had 
been moved. Lend a hand and we’ll see what 
we can find.” 

Thereupon, Bob set to work and before long 


THE CHASE BEGINS 243 

the whole pile had been put on the other side 
of the room. 

‘‘ Nothing doing,” announced Ned, after a 
careful search with the lantern revealed nothing 
of interest. ‘‘ I reckon my hunch was rotten ! ” 

It really looked as if that were the case, but 
Ned persisted in making a further examination 
of every nook and cranny in the cavern. Bob 
helped, but it was easy to see that his enthusiasm 
was gone. 

‘‘ Come on, Ned,” he urged at last. ‘‘ Let’s 
get out of here. It must be getting dark out- 
side and there’s no moon. It won’t be a joke 
if we have to paddle home at night.” 

All right, I s’pose we’ll have to,” the other 
said, regretfully. ‘‘ But I still think there is 
something around here we’d like to have.” 

‘‘ Maybe, but we don’t seem to be the ones 
to find it. Anyhow, it was just a hunch of 
yours.” With this, he started through the 
passage leading to the opening in the cave. 

Let’s go the other way,” said Ned, paying 
no attention to Bob’s remarks. ‘‘ I searched 
that passage on the way in. The Duke might 
have hidden his — his — ” 


244 


TOM WICKHAM 


“ His what? demanded Bob. 

“ Oh, treasure or something! exploded Ned. 

It might be somewheres in the passage you 
came through ! ’’ 

Bob contented himself with a mocking laugh. 

Laugh and show your ignorance ! Ned 
retorted, perilously close to anger. Get out 
any way you like, but Fm going to make sure ! 

His crutches made a sharp noise as they 
struck the stone floor of the chamber, carrying 
the determined boy across to the passage open- 
ing. Bob watched his friend duck into the 
tunnel and then, a little ashamed of having been 
so discouraging, followed. 

The going was slow, for Ned examined every 
inch of the way with care. It was not until 
they reached the slightly larger space over 
which was the opening into the trench, that Bob 
opened his mouth again. 

‘‘Satisfied now, Ned?” he asked, preparing 
to pull himself up onto the ground. “ It's 
mighty dark already. Better hurry ! ” 

But a sharp exclamation escaped from the boy 
he addressed. 

“What — what is it?” Bob cried. 


THE CHASE BEGINS 245 

‘‘ Fve — IVe found something/’ returned Ned 
excitedly. 

‘‘Get out! Have you really?” 

“Yep!” but his voice had changed from a 
note of triumph to one of disappointment. “ But 
it won’t do us any good.” 

“ Why?” 

“ Cause it’s not treasure or anything like that 
— it’s just a photograph ! ” 

Bob bent over and scanned the cardboard, 
which Ned held under the dim light of the old 
lantern. It was an old-fashioned picture, such 
as is taken by photographers in small towns, 
and showed a pleasant-faced woman with two 
small children beside her. 

“ It must be the Duke’s wife and kids ! ” Bob 
decided at length. “ Unless it’s Whiskers’.” 

“ Couldn’t be his. He never was in this part 
of the cave. Why, he never knew about it until 
v/e told him, and that was after he’d have any 
reason to come here ! ” 

“ I guess you’re right,” agreed Bob. “ It 
belongs to the Duke.” A new thought struck 
him. “ Say, Ned, do you believe this was what 
made the poor nut try to escape? To get this? ” 


246 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ It probably meant more to him than any 
money he might have hidden away/’ said young 
Moseley slowly. ‘‘ That might be the answer.” 

“ I think that it is the answer, Ned, really I 
do! There was something in that wild hunch 
of yours after all, Fll say that for you! It 
looks to me as if somebody ought to stay up 
here and head him off.” 

The river hasn’t gone down far enough yet,” 
said Ned, after a moment’s thought. ‘‘ There’s 
no way for him to get across. He couldn’t swim 
it without drowning and there’s no boat or 
bridge for miles. I forgot about the freshet 
when I first thought about coming up here. It 
will give us time to go back and tell Tom what 
we’ve learned. Someone can come back up here 
in the morning if Tom hasn’t got on his trail by 
then. Let’s be moving ! ” 

Night had fallen when the boys got back to 
the canoe, and they pushed off into the inky 
darkness with rather quaking hearts. Needless 
to say, either one would rather have been killed 
on the spot than to let the other know how he 
felt. So the trip home was accompanied by 
valiant efforts at cheerfulness. They sang and 


THE CHASE BEGINS 


247 


laughed as they paddled, but both were heartily 
glad when the light craft grounded on the land- 
ing place at the Island. 

Once ashore, Ned set the pace to Tom’s house. 
His crutches fairly flew over the ground and 
it was all Bob could do to keep up with him. 

‘‘Great day in the morning!” panted Ned, 
as they drew in sight of the house, only to find 
every window dark. “ It must be powerful late, 
because they have all gone to bed. What shall 
we do?” 

“ I’ll bet that even if he’s gone to bed, Tom’s 
not asleep,” said Bob. “ I vote we see if we 
can’t get him to the window. We don’t want 
to wake Big Chris, though.” 

“Why not?” inquired Ned. “He wants to 
find the Duke as much as we do. He won’t 
mind being waked up to hear our news.” 

“I know it, but I figure it will be a whole 
lot easier for Tom if we could only catch the 
Duke ourselves and turn him over again to Big 
Chris. See?” 

“ You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it 
that way,” agreed Ned. 

When they reached the house they circled it 


248 


TOM WICKHAM 


noiselessly until they came to the side on which 
Tom’s room was located. Gathering a handful 
of pebbles, Ned began tossing them up against 
the window. 

He had used up the whole handful without a 
sign of Tom’s appearance. 

Old Tom must have been so tired that he 
dropped off to sleep,” suggested Bob in a 
whisper. '' Throw several of ’em this time ! ” 

Ned took the suggestion and fired a volley 
at the window glass. The stones tinkled quite 
loudly and both boys held their breath waiting 
for the result. 

There was a result, but not the one for which 
they had hoped. 

A head was stuck out of the window, only, to 
their horror, it was not Tom’s, but the shaggy 
head of his father! 

‘‘What’s the matter, ye young scamps? 
Wakin’ up a decent house like this!” Big Chris 
thundered. 

“ We — we’ve just got back from the cave 
and we wanted to — to tell Tom,” began Bob. 

“What did ye want to tell him?” demanded 
the man. “ Did ye find anything? ” 


THE CHASE BEGINS 249 

“ Yes, sir — that is, nothin’ much. Not 
enough to bother you with.” 

But any news was of interest to Big Chris at 
this time. 

‘‘ Hold your bosses a minute,” he said. ‘T’ll 
fetch Tom and then ye can tell us what ye’ve 
learned.” 

“ I reckon there’s nothing to it but to tell 
him,” said Ned, as the white head was pulled 
inside the window. We’ve let ourselves in 
for it. Don’t you — ” 

But this remark was never to be finished, for 
just at that moment Big Chris burst out of the 
front door, an overcoat pulled on over his 
nightshirt. 

'‘Tom’s gone!” he shouted. "Ain’t in the 
house, nowheres ! ” 

All Bob could do was to repeat dully, " Tom 
gone? ” 

" Yes,” cried the old man. " Went to bed in 
the same room Simson was in. Now Tom’s 
gone too I ” 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE CHASE ENDS 

Ned Moseley tried to reassure the old man. 

“ Tom’s all right, Mr. Wickham. I’ll bet he’s 
somewheres near. He can take care of himself.” 

Perhaps he got tired of waiting for us and 
went down to the Island. He might have missed 
us as we came up,” suggested Bob, but there 
was no conviction in his tone. Big Chris, how- 
ever, felt this was a good explanation of the 
matter and seemed much relieved. 

‘‘ We’ll go down and see, Mr. Wickham,” 
offered Ned. You don’t have to come.” 

But Tom’s father would not agree to this. 
He insisted on going along and the only con- 
cession they could get from him was that he 
would go in and put on his clothes. But before 
he left them, Bob asked what he and Tom had 
discovered during the afternoon. 

“ Didn’t find out anything,” replied Big Chris. 

The feller’s tracks led down to the railroad 
250 


THE CHASE ENDS 251 

and then we lost ’em.” With this he went into 
the house to put on some clothes. While he was 
gone the boys got a lantern from the barn and 
lighted it. 

'' Let’s have another squint at that picture,” 
suggested Bob, as they waited for Big Chris’ 
reappearance. ‘‘ This is a lot better light.” 

Ned pulled the cardboard from his pocket 
and handed it to his chum. 

‘‘Nice looking lady, ain’t she?” he said at 
last. “ The Duke must have been in an awful 
hole to do anything that would hurt her.” As 
he spoke, he turned the picture over carelessly. 
“ Great day, Ned. Look here. I wonder what’s 
all this funny stuff written on the back? ” 

Ned was quite as mystified as Bob when he 
saw the strange hodgepodge of letters and 
figures scrawled on the reverse of the picture. 

“Do you think it can be a puzzle?” he 
suggested. “ It doesn’t look like anything else 
to me.” 

“ He wouldn’t write a puzzle down on that 
picture,” said Bob, as much to himself as to 
his companion. “ It must be some sort of direc- 
tions, a sort of reminder — ” 


252 


TOM WICKHAM 


YouVe hit it/’ exclaimed Ned. ‘‘ Fll bet 
a pretty you’ve hit it! That’s a memorandum 
of the place he’s left the money he took from 
the bank — buried it likely ! I felt sure we were 
treasure hunting when we went up to the cave I ” 

There might be something in what Ned had 
to say, Bob had to admit to himself, especially 
as he could think of no other explanation for 
the queer figures. Before he could say anything 
more on the subject. Big Chris came out of the 
house. 

Ned whispered as they went up to meet the 
man. “We’ll show him the photo but don’t let 
him see the back of it if you can help it I ” 

“ Ready, sir ? ” Bob asked as they came close 
to Mr. Wickham. 

“ All right,” was the gruff reply. The man 
was worried about his son, and the fact that 
these other boys were witnesses of what he felt 
was a weakness, worried him still further. 
Therefore he endeavored to conceal his feelings 
by a rough manner. 

“ Mightn’t it be a good stunt to take along 
Tom’s dogs? ” ventured Ned. “ If we get close 
to him, Minnie or Rush ought to find him.” 


THE CHASE ENDS 


253 


Good idea; Til call 'em/’ grudged Big Chris, 
and started to whistle for the hounds. There 
was no answering scamper of paws. The night 
lay still after each clear call. 

That's right," commented Bob. ‘‘ They 
haven't been around since we came back. I was 
so excited I didn't notice that they were not 
barking their heads off ! " 

‘‘ Tom let 'em go along with him, I reckon," 
said Ned. Otherwise they'd be here." 

When the dogs did not come to a final call, 
Mr. Wickham started forward on the way to 
the Island. He had accepted the fact that the 
dogs had gone with his son and did not think it 
worth while to make any comment. Bob and 
Ned trailed after. 

Hardly were they outside the yard when 
Big Chris shot a question at them. 

‘‘ What did ye find at the cave ? See any 
sign of Simson? " 

Bob was careful to answer only the second 
question. 

‘‘ No, sir. The river is still too high for him 
to swim to the other side." 

‘‘ I knew that afore you-all started out, but 


254 


TOM WICKHAM 


I figgered ye were so set on goin' ’twouldn't do 
ye any harm to take the trip and be disap- 
pointed.” A chuckle escaped from the man, but 
there was no mirth in it that the boys could 
discover. ‘‘But did ye find anything else? Ye 
said ye had something to tell Tom when I come 
to the winder — ye can tell it to me. Come on, 
now ! ” 

“ All we found was this photograph, sir.” 
Bob held it up to the lantern so it could be seen. 
He took good care to keep the back of the 
cardboard hid. 

Big Chris looked at the picture a moment 
and then remarked, “ I don't rightly see why 
you-all figgered that thing was important 
enough to git my boy Tom out o' his bed for.” 

Both boys felt relieved. Tom's father evi- 
dently did not see that this photograph could 
in all probability be a greater magnet to the 
poor unbalanced Simson than all the treasure 
in the world. And they did not take any pains 
to enlighten him. It would be time enough 
when they had had a talk with Tom, who had 
disappeared so completely. 

“ Why, we just thought Tom would like to 


THE CHASE ENDS 


255 


know/' returned Ned with elaborate careless- 
ness. Besides, we didn't have any idea it was 
so late and we wanted to know what plans you 
and he had made for the morning." As he 
said this he slipped the picture back in his 
pocket. 

Satisfied that the boys had gone on a wild 
goose chase, Big Chris stalked ahead at so lively 
a pace that Bob and Ned were soon out- 
distanced. This, however, gave them a chance 
to discuss the situation. 

‘‘Great day, but that was lucky, wasn't it?" 
Ned began in a low tone. 

“ You bet," was the fervent reply. “ The 
next thing is to find Tom and decide who will 
go up to the cave and watch for the Duke." 

Ned hesitated a moment before replying. At 
last it came. 

“ Bob, I don't think Tom came down to 
meet us — " 

“What do you think then?" 

“ That he had a hunch and is off to hunt 
Simson all by himself. I didn't say anything 
about it when Big Chris took your suggestion 
so well, but I thought so then." 


256 


TOM WICKHAM 


‘‘ Me too/' said Bob. It's a cinch old Tom 
isn't letting the grass grow under his feet. But 
I wish I knew where he was. I'd feel a lot 
happier." 

“ So would I. But it's no use wishing, because 
there's no way of finding out, at any rate until 
morning." 

By this time the Island was near. From 
ahead they heard Big Chris shout: ‘‘Tom! 
Tom!" only to have the sound die away with- 
out any answering hail. 

As they stood thus, eyes and ears straining 
in the darkness, a queer moving noise came to 
them. The light of their lantern penetrated 
only a little ways into the gloom and hardly 
took the edge off the mystery of the dark. 

It was a queer noise they heard: a crackling 
of brush, the pat-pat of light feet. Visions of 
large and fierce animals came to them. Of 
course, they knew that no such beasts remained 
in the country around them, but this knowledge 
did not have much effect against the fact that 
something — something — was coming to them 
through the night. 

Really scared, they stood stockstill, waiting. 


THE CHASE ENDS 


257 


They did not even call out to Big Chris. 
Possibly they forgot he was within call. Their 
minds were intent on the mystifying thing that 
was coming towards them. 

Nearer and nearer it came, the noise growing 
louder. Now they could hear the pant of quick 
breaths coming from the creature. Nearer it 
came — nearer — 

Then, into the circle of the lantern light, 
flashed a black and white shape. 

‘‘Wow!'’ said Ned weakly. “Huh, it's 
Rush!" 

When they recovered they saw that the dog 
was covered with lather and sweat. They called 
to Big Chris, who started towards them. When 
he came up and saw the dog, he said: 

“ I reckon Tom must be somewheres around 
if Rush is here." 

“ I don't think so, sir," Bob replied. “ If 
Tom was near. Rush wouldn't be so all-fired 
friendly with us. He's been jumping up and 
licking our hands since he found us." 

“ Listen to him whine," put in Ned. “ It's 
almost as if he wanted something!" 

“ That's just it ! " cried Bob. “ He's been 


258 TOM WICKHAM 

with Tom. Tom’s in some sort of a hole and 
he sent Rush for help ! ” 

“ Just like the St. Bernard dogs in the Alps/’ 
said Ned, who was a great reader. “ Come 
on — ” 

‘‘ Foolishness,” Big Chris growled. Plumb 
foolishness ! ” 

This dampened the boys’ spirits for only a 
moment. 

“ Anyway, I’m going to follow Rush,” 
asserted Bob. ‘‘Coming, Ned?” 

“ You bet! ” was the reply. “ Hark on. Rush; 
go find ’em, boy I ” 

At the word the hound leaped out of the 
circle of light in the general direction of the 
railroad. The boys started after the dog, 
without a word to Big Chris. Before they had 
covered much ground, the dog flashed back, 
looking at them reproachfully. 

“ All right. Rush, old boy,” soothed Bob, 
“ we’re coming. The critter thinks we ought to 
be able to go as fast as he can, Ned,” he 
finished with a chuckle. 

This time Rush did not run so far ahead, 
but kept close to the boys, whining his encour- 


THE CHASE ENDS 


259 


agement. When they reached the railroad, the 
dog set off towards the south. Here the going 
was surer and better time was made. At the 
spot where the path from Tom's house crossed 
the railroad, the boys half expected the dog to 
turn off, but Rush made no attempt to leave 
the track. 

About half a mile farther, the dog suddenly 
gave a sharp bark and dashed from the track, 
in towards the river. Bob and Ned followed. 

"‘It's the sand pit!" exclaimed Ned. “And 
Rush is making for the cars. Come on; let's 
hurry ! " And he started off on one of his 
famous three legged dashes with which Bob had 
difficulty in keeping up. 

The sand pit was a field of almost pure sand, 
which the railroad had found useful for ballast- 
ing their tracks. They had made an arrange- 
ment with Mr. Moseley by which they had the 
privilege to lay in a spur track and pay a certain 
amount for each car of sand they took out. The 
pit was in constant operation and seldom was 
the sidetrack empty. 

Reaching the edge of the excavation, they 
found Rush waiting for them, quivering with 


260 TOM WICKHAM 

excitement. As soon as he was sure he was 
being followed, he slipped down the steep bank. 

‘‘After him,” cried Ned and, sitting down, 
slid to the bottom. Before he reached his feet. 
Bob was beside him, the only casualty being 
that the lantern had gone out. 

“ Don’t bother to light it,” advised Ned. 
“ Dawn’s coming. Look how gray it’s getting 
over in the east.” 

Before he had finished, both boys had started 
towards the freight cars that now were dimly 
visible. But what lent speed to their final spurt 
was the sound of an encouraging yell that came 
from the direction in which they were going. 

“It’s Tom!” panted Ned. “He’s — he’s all 
right!” 

Bob did not answer. He was too busy run- 
ning. As they got nearer to their goal, the 
figure of Tom outlined itself on the top of one 
of the box cars. 

“ I’ve got him, fellows ! I’ve got him ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE MYSTERIOUS PHOTOGRAPH 

Bob and Ned drew up, blown, beside the car 
on which Tom was perched. 

“You’ve got him? Where?” Bob managed 
to ask between gasps. 

“ Right here. I’m sitting on him. That is, 
I’m sitting on the lid to the icebox of this 
refrigerator car and — and — ” 

“ And the Duke’s on ice? ” cried Ned. 

“ That’s about it, only there’s no ice. This 
car must be an old one or it wouldn’t be used 
for carting sand.” 

By this time the other boys had recovered 
their wind and had joined Tom on top of the 
car. 

“ But how in thunder did you get him in 
there? And how did you find him? And — 
and — ” 

“ Have a heart,” chuckled Tom. “ I’ll tell 
you all about it, but first I want to know where 
261 


262 


TOM WICKHAM 


Rush found you. I thought you’d never come.” 

We were over on the hill near the Island,” 
said Bob. ‘‘ Your father was with us — ” 

''Pop with you?” echoed Tom. "I thought 
Rush would find either you or Pop, but not both 
of you.” 

"We woke him up when we tried to get you 
to the window at the house. When he found 
you were gone, he had to come out and hunt. 
We thought you might have come down to the 
Island to meet us — ” 

Tom interrupted Bob’s explanation to know 
what luck they had had. 

" All we could find was a photograph of the 
Duke’s wife and kids,” was the answer. " We’ll 
show it to you when it gets light enough — 
there’s something funny written on the back 
too.” 

Here Ned broke in — 

" The old photo can wait. Tom’s adventures 
are what I want to hear about. But, Tom, it’s 
lucky Rush found us instead of Big Chris ! ” 

" Why?” 

" ’Cause I don’t reckon he’d have followed the 
pup. When we started with Rush as a guide. 


THE PHOTOGRAPH 263 

your father said it was all plumb foolishness. 
We left him — ” 

“ I reckon he’s thought better of it by now, 
for here he comes,” laughed Tom and pointed 
across the field to a figure that was coming 
towards them through the gray morning mists. 

I’ll wait so he can be here too when I tell you 
all how I trapped the Duke.” 

Bob and Ned had to be content with this. 

But, Tom, Rush certainly is a smart houn’ 
dog to come and find us. How did you get him 
to do it?” It was Bob who wanted to know. 

‘‘ Oh, I’ve been training him to fetch things 
for me and I figured that if I ever got hurt 
and in the woods it would come in handy if I 
could be sure that Rush would go get help. I’ve 
got him so that all I have to do is double up 
like I had a tummy-ache and Rush will streak 
it for the house. I did that to-night and evi- 
dently when he got to the house and couldn’t 
find anyone, he went off on your hot trail.” 

‘‘He’s sure some pup!” was Ned’s enthu- 
siastic comment. 

Just then Big Chris came up. 

“Well, what’s the meetin’ about?” he 


264 


TOM WICKHAM 


snapped. Get me out here traipsin’ through 
the night huntin’ ye, when the whole passel o’ 
ye have a right to be in bed. What’s it all 
about? ” 

''I — I had an idea I might find the Duke so’s 
you might have him to turn over when the 
sheriff came,” said Tom rather hesitatingly, as 
if he had merited the rebuke. 

‘‘Ye might have come on home when ye 
found out ye was wrong,” suggested the boy’s 
father severely. Bob and Ned could hardly 
restrain their desire to shout out the whole 
thing. 

“ Yes, sir. But it just struck me after we 
went to bed that Simson might have followed 
the track to the switch where this siding begins 
and then walked up here. You see, Pop, we 
went right by the switch when we looked 
yesterday afternoon.” 

Big Chris Wickham did not make any com- 
ment, so Tom continued. 

“ I sort of figured it out that if the Duke 
had done that he would probably have been 
too tired to go on after dark and that one of 
the cars would be a good hiding place in which 


THE PHOTOGRAPH 


265 


to rest enough to start off again this morning.” 
Again he paused for some remark from his 
father. But Big Chris would not commit 
himself. 

So I just slipped out of the window and 
came down to find out. When I got to the 
first car and looked in, the Duke jumped on 
me — 

''What?'' came the startled cry from Big 
Chris. “ And — and he got away? ” 

For a minute or two. I was so surprised 
that I let him go. We dodged around the cars 
for a few minutes and then something made him 
climb up to the top of the car here. I don’t 
know what he thought he would gain by the 
plan. Then I came after him as fast as I could. 
Golly!” — Tom drew a long breath — ‘‘but it 
must have been a pretty scrap up here while it 
lasted. We almost went over the edge a couple 
of times, but we didn’t. Then something lucky 
happened. That is, lucky for me. The poor 
fellow’s head hit a sharp corner and he wasn’t 
any more trouble. He wasn’t hurt badly, so I 
knew I only had a moment or two in which to 
put him in a safe place.” 


266 


TOM WICKHAM 


Why didn’t you lock him inside the car ? ’’ 
exclaimed Bob. 

I couldn’t get him down without throwing 
him over the side,” explained Tom. “ It was 
the edge of this icebox lid that had put the 
Duke down and out, and as it was so handy, I 
just dumped him in there and sat on the cover. 
He was safe as long as I sat there, I knew, 
but the latch was broken off so I could not 
fasten it and go away for help.” As Tom 
finished he looked down at his father, who was 
staring up at him incredulously. “ You see. 
Pop, my idea turned out right.” 

Big Chris was dazed with the surprise Tom 
had given him. At last he spoke, for he was a 
just man. 

“Ye did a good piece o’ work, Tom, I’ll say 
that for ye. An’ I’m right glad for ye to have 
the reward — ” 

“But — but the reward is yours, isn’t it, 
fellows?” Tom protested quickly. They 
assented eagerly. 

“I can’t see it that way,” returned the man 
slowly. “ It belongs to Tom.” 

“ Not at all, sir. The cement bags and — 


THE PHOTOGRAPH 


267 


and your work at the Island the night of the 
freshet, make it yours. Just because he got 
away makes no difference ! ’’ 

The farmer needed the money too greatly to 
resist his son’s urging long. The way in which 
they put it was plausible and soon he was con- 
vinced that in justice the reward belonged to 
him. 

Ye are good boys, all of ye,” he said at last 
by way of thanks. Reckon we might git the 
Duke feller out o’ that there hole now an’ take 
him to the house. It’s full day now.” 

When at last Simson was out in the light, he 
proved to be a pitiful object. He had relapsed 
into the state of listlessness which had come 
over him when they had taken him from the 
cave. Dirty, his hands all cut and face 
scratched, he did not look the criminal of 
romance. He had to be carried almost all the 
way to the house, for the stony ground had cut 
his feet, unused as they were to being unpro- 
tected. Once there. Big Chris locked him in 
the corn crib. 

As soon as they had the prisoner safe, the 
boys realized how tired they were. They were 


268 


TOM WICKHAM 


able, however, to keep awake until Mrs. Wick- 
ham had served up some food and a hot cup 
of coffee. After this they made for the barn 
with one accord. In the hayloft they attempted 
to discuss the details of the events just past, but 
sleep soon discouraged them. A few minutes 
later each was dreaming. 

The sun was high when Tom woke. Arous- 
ing the others, he exclaimed: 

‘‘ I hope the sheriff hasn’t been here while 
we’ve been loafing. Hurry up; let’s go down 
and see ! ” 

They had not delayed a minute too long, for 
when they came into the barnyard, the sheriff 
was already in his carriage with the Duke sitting 
dazedly at his side. There was a stranger on 
the front seat, besides. Evidently the Duke was 
about to leave them, this time for good. 

The boys got to the carriage before it rolled 
off and were in time to hear the stranger on the 
front seat say to Big Chris: 

And you’re sure that nothing was found on 
him? No papers or memoranda or anything?” 

Big Chris was sure. The stranger shook his 
head sadly. 


THE PHOTOGRAPH 


269 


‘‘ That’s too bad. Simson took away a lot of 
bonds and things he couldn’t turn into money 
and unless he gets his senses back, we’ll never 
be able to find them.” 

As the stranger was speaking, Ned suddenly 
remembered the photograph that still reposed in 
his pocket and which he had forgotten entirely 
in the rush of events. 

Stop ! ” he cried as the sheriff told the driver 
to start off. ‘‘ Wait a moment ! ” 

The stranger turned and noticed the boys for 
the first time. ‘‘What is it, my boy?” he 
asked. 

“ We — we found this ! ” Ned said, pulling 
out the cardboard. “ It’s got some writing on 
the back!” 

The man snatched the picture and an exclama- 
tion of pleasure escaped him. 

“ You have given me just what I wanted,” 
he said. “ This tells me where he secreted the 
papers. I am the vice-president of the bank 
where poor Simson was employed and my being 
able to recover these papers will make it easier 
for him. I can’t tell you how obliged I am. 
Tell me: how did you find it?” 


270 


TOM WICKHAM 


Before the stranger would let the carriage 
go on, the boys had to tell him the whole story 
of their connection with Simson. When they 
had finished, he said that they deserved a 
reward too and, pulling out a big wallet, fished 
some bills from it and handed them to Ned. 

Divide it,’’ he directed. 

Whoop~ee ! ” yelled Bob, who had looked 
over Ned’s shoulder. ‘‘ It’s a hundred and fifty 
dollars. That’s fifty dollars apiece!” 

But the carriage had started. When it had 
turned the corner of the road, little Simson, 
alias the Duke of Wellington, had passed out 
of their lives forever. 


CHAPTER XXIV 
THE HARVEST 

At last the final cultivation was over, bringing 
with it weary backs and arms. The stalks had 
grown tall and strong, while the green ears had 
lengthened and thickened. Each stalk carried 
a heavy burden of the grain and the boys felt 
proud and confident of the result. The work 
on the Island had been a pleasant contrast to the 
exciting events which had marked the final exit 
from the scene of Whiskers and the Duke. 

Late in August a letter from Mr. Elwood 
reminded them that it was time to collect the 
ears from which next year’s seed corn should 
come. 

‘‘ Let’s take enough so we can supply Uncle 
Eddy and your father,” suggested Ned. “ If 
we make a big crop they’ll be glad to have it.” 

‘‘ Good idea,” assented Tom. When they 
brought the corn to the barn, they found that 
Mr. Elwood’s method of stringing the ears was 
271 


272 


TOM WICKHAM 


easy. They caught on to it in a minute and 
soon the ears they had selected were hanging 
from the barn rafters, where only dry air could 
reach them. 

How shall we harvest? ” asked Ned one day. 

Cut and stack in shocks or husk from the 
stalk?’’ 

Tom was ready with his answer. 

'' I reckon our best plan will be to let the 
corn stay in the field until the kernels are hard. 
The corn keeps better that way. Then husk 
the ears right off the stalk. The fodder won’t 
be worth the long haul to the house.” 

‘‘ As an experienced farmer,” said Bob, 
laughingly, ‘‘ I perfectly agree with you.” 

‘‘ Anyhow, Big Chris can turn his stock in 
here as soon as we’ve harvested, so the fodder 
won’t all be wasted,” Ned commented. ‘‘ How 
long will it be before we can begin, Tom? ” 
Long after school opens,” was the reply. 
‘‘ Not until the kernel is quite hard and the 
husk is dry. Some time in October, I reckon.” 

‘‘ But, Tom,” exploded Bob, “ if we can’t tell 
how much of a crop we’ve made, what will Big 
Chris do about letting you stay in school? ” 


THE HARVEST 


273 


“ Fm jiggered if I know/’ returned the 
farmer’s son. ‘‘ He’ll probably keep me home. 
Fve been expecting it, so I won’t be much dis- 
appointed. Don’t worry about me, fellows; it’s 
all right.” 

‘‘ Rotten luck, old boy,” consoled Bob. Why 
can’t the old corn be ready for harvest now? 
Unfair to us, I call it.” 

“ Even if he does keep me home,” Tom said 
cheerfully, “ when we measure our harvest he 
will have to let me go back to school — because 
we’re going to win! It just means two months’ 
delay, that’s all.” 

But Big Chris kept his own counsel and 
although the boys tried, they could gather 
nothing from him regarding his intentions 
towards Tom. Their work on the Island was 
finished for the time being, so the unexpected 
arrival of two enthusiastic gentlemen from 
Washington was very welcome, as it helped to 
keep their minds off their troubles. The new- 
comers were from the Smithsonian Institute and 
had been sent by Whiskers to see of what value 
were the relics the boys had found in the gun 
chamber of the cave. 


274 


TOM WICKHAM 


The guiding of these men to the cave took 
up much of the time that hung heavy on their 
hands. It was fun to see the rather sedate 
professors wriggling through the narrow pas- 
sages leading to the interesting room. The 
latter were delighted with the find and expressed 
themselves as more than satisfied with the result 
of their trip. 

‘‘ Although it would be premature to say 
definitely,” one of them observed after emerging 
from the cave for the first time, ‘‘ I think that 
the Institute will remunerate you lads suffi- 
ciently — quite sufficiently, if I may say so.” 

Whiskers' dugout, which he had presented to 
the boys, proved to be the best means of taking 
the guns and other relics to civilization and, 
as only a few could be carried at a time, several 
more days were profitably passed. 

Too soon, however, the professors left with 
their booty and all the young farmers had to 
think about was their crop, and, of course, what 
would be Tom's fate. 

As the day for the opening of school drew 
near, the fear that Big Chris would not let Tom 
start the session on time, grew more pronounced. 


THE HARVEST 


275 


Tom, who was most concerned, refused to 
talk about the matter at all. Such of the time 
as he could get off from his father, he spent 
with his chums, and he was the cheeriest of the 
bunch. 

Not until the very day before Brother Eddy 
would tinkle his little bell at nine o’clock to mark 
the beginning of a new school year, did Big 
Chris express himself. 

The young farmers had been on a trip to 
the Island to look at their stand of corn, which 
was now mature. Here and there the leaves 
had begun to turn yellow, promising that the 
day of harvest would not be long in coming. 
Approaching the Big House, they found Big 
Chris in deep conversation with Mr. Moseley 
before the barn door. As they came up, he 
greeted them with a roar. 

“ Still think that book learnin’ will make a 
hundred bushel crop for ye, eh? Been down to 
look it over, eh ? ” 

“ We’ve looked at it and still think we’ll make 
at least a hundred bushels,” returned Ned 
respectfully. 

The big man laughed. ‘‘ Ye do, do ye? Well, 


276 


TOM WICKHAM 


I still know ye can’t! Ye needn’t try to explain. 
Facts is facts, and an acre don’t grow a hundred 
bushel in these parts. I been down to the Island 
myself and ye young scamps have raised a 
mighty pretty patch o’ corn, I’ll say that for ye, 
an’ — an’ ” — his voice shook a little — ‘‘ an’ 
I’m ready to do the right thing. You, Tom,” 
he raised his voice suddenly, “ye’re agoin’ to 
school here to Brother Moseley this winter, ye 
hear me? I don’t want no complaints about it, 
neither, ’cause what I say goes — ” 

This was a bombshell of surprise. It caught 
the boys unawares and struck them speechless. 
Brother Eddy was delighted. One could see 
that from the smile that broke out all over his 
face. Tom, who had listened with incredulous 
ears, made a leap for his father and held out 
his hand. 

“ Pop,” he stammered, “ Pop, I — I can’t tell 
you how grateful — ” 

“ Get along with ye,” returned the old man. 

“ But aren’t you going to tell Tom what you 
just told me?” asked Mr. Moseley with a quiet 
smile, “About the reward you got for turning 
over Simpson to the sheriff?” 


THE HARVEST 277 

Big Chris’ weatherbeaten red face turned a 
deeper red. 

Why — why, Brother Moseley,” he almost 
stammered, ‘‘I — I didn’t aim for to tell that 
yet awhile. I — I — ” 

‘‘ I’ll tell it now if you don’t,” said the 
schoolmaster. 

“ Well,” started the farmer, a little shame- 
facedly, ‘‘ I figgered that there money I got 
didn’t rightly belong to me, though they plumb 
convinced me that it did. I’ll say that for 
myself, an’ — an’ — an’ I figgered that as Tom’s 
so set on this here ag-gri-cult’ral school busi- 
ness, it oughter be used that way ’cause rightly 
the money belongs to the boys. Not that I 
believe in all that newfangled foolishness,” he 
hastened to add, but I always have been a 
just man an’ I don’t figger to quit now.” 

‘‘But what are you going to do with it?” 
queried Tom, greatly excited. 

“ Send ye to the farm college if ye still want 
to go; an’ — an’ mebbe I’d go along too just 
to see what sort of hocus-pocus they call farmin’ 
there.” 

“Hooray!” yelled the boys, realizing that 


278 


TOM WICKHAM 


even if they failed to make a hundred-bushel 
crop, they had achieved a far greater result: 
that of getting Big Chris interested in modern 
farming. He had been forced to acknowledge 
that what they had done was an advance over 
old style methods, and when he realized this 
he wanted to learn too. But it had been mighty 
hard for him to own up. 

All at once, waking to the fact that he had 
given himself away. Big Chris bellowed sternly 
at his son: 

‘‘Ye got to behave at school or I’ll know the 
reason why, ye young limb ! ” and without saying 
more he walked off in the direction of his farm. 

“Wasn’t that bully of him?” asked Bob 
Hazard, his eyes shining. “ Perfectly bully of 
him?” 

“ Now it won’t make so much difference if 
we don’t make over a hundred bushels to the 
acre,” broke in Ned. “Tom can go to school 
anyway.” 

“ But it does — it makes even more differ- 
ence,” returned Tom, feelingly. “ We have got 
to make a hundred bushels so that Pop will feel 


THE HARVEST 


279 


right about doing what he has. Fll bet he’d 
be more disappointed, really, if we failed, than 
we’d be ourselves.” 

‘‘Right you are,” Bob admitted. 

After a moment Ned said thoughtfully, “I 
see it that way, too, but at first I figured he’d 
feel bad if we proved him wrong.” 

“ I think he wanted to be proved wrong,” 
said Brother Eddy, as he left the group and 
went to the house, leaving the boys to talk over 
these tremendous happenings. 

With school to fill up the greater part of the 
day, the time passed quickly. Soon after the first 
frost Tom felt that the corn was hard enough 
to harvest. The reports of the measured acre 
that were to be sent to Mr. Elwood and to 
Washington were all in shape except for the 
most important entry, that of the final yield. It 
was on the return of this acre that any prize 
score was to be figured. The remaining part 
of the field was not considered. Ned had been 
the bookkeeper and had carefully noted just 
what expenditures in money and labor they 
had made on this acre. To simplify this work, 


280 TOM WICKHAM 

Mr. El wood had sent them a schedule of 
charges they should make and, as all the other 
boys who were growing corn throughout the 
country, used it too, when the final results were 
sent in, all were judged alike. They had to 
charge for each boy’s labor at ten cents an hour 
and each horse at five cents, manure at one 
dollar a light wagon load, and so on down the 
list. 

As soon as school was out the next day. Pony 
was hitched to the light wagon. When they got 
to the field. Big Chris was already there to act 
as witness to the fact that only the corn from 
the measured acre was harvested as from that 
acre. The job of husking corn was new only to 
Bob Hazard, but he soon caught on and shortly 
the gleaming yellow ears were flying from his 
hands into the wagon body almost as rapidly as 
they were from his friends’. 

The pile of ears in the wagon grew larger 
and larger. Big Chris became almost as excited 
as the boys when the wagon was full and the 
acre seemed hardly touched. Before night 
came. Pony made four trips to the barn with a 
precious load. The next day being Saturday, 


THE HARVEST 


281 


the boys had the whole day for their harvesting, 
and it was not until afternoon that the acre 
was exhausted of its wealth. 

Toni’s father accompanied the boys on the 
last trip to the barn, joining in the discussion 
as to the probability of their having succeeded 
in their aim. 

Ye’ve got more off’n the acre than I 
reckoned ye would,” he stated, a heap more, 
but it ain't a hundred bushel, that’s sure.” When 
they arrived at the barn, Brother Eddy was 
waiting, a notebook in his hand. The excite- 
ment was so great that even Sister Elly was 
on hand to see what the result would be. 

The boys added what they had brought on 
the last trip to the already large pile that lay 
on the ground in front of the barn. Then they 
brought out the scales, which Mr. Moseley tested 
and found correct. 

The ears were put into baskets and placed on 
the scales. Big Chris weighed the baskets, 
calling off the figures to Brother Eddy, who 
entered the results in his book. In this fashion 
the whole yield was weighed. When they had 
finished, the boys demanded the total. 


282 


TOM WICKHAM 


“ It’s very important to go slowly, very 
important,” returned the schoolmaster. “ We 
must get this right.” He figured busily for a 
moment and then announced: 

Seven thousand, two hundred and eighty- 
two pounds.” 

Tom led the cheer that followed this news. 

“ Easy, easy,” cautioned Mr. Moseley. I 
know that sounds good, but it’s only the start. 
Now we’ve got to find what percentage of this 
weight is in the cob. To do this we have to 
weigh two lots of a hundred pounds each. Take 
them from different parts of the pile.” 

When they had two piles of just one hundred 
pounds each, the boys took them inside the barn 
and ran the ears through the corn sheller, taking 
care that each pile should be kept separate. Then 
they brought the shelled corn out and weighed 
it again. From these figures Brother Eddy 
quickly arrived at the average percentage of 
shelled corn in the whole yield. 

‘‘ It’s about five parts corn to one of cob. 
Applying it to your whole whole crop, gives 
you six thousand and seventy pounds of dry 
shelled corn and — ” 



Bob threw his cap high in the air. 
“ We’ve made over one hundred bushels to 
the acre ! ” 


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THE HARVEST 


283 


And if we divide by fifty-six pounds, which 
a bushel weighs, we’ve made over one hundred 
bushels an acre ! Great day in the morning ! ” 
And Bob threw his cap high in the ain 

'' Exactly eight and a fraction bushels over.” 
Mr. Moseley tried to make himself heard, but 
the boys were too busy congratulating each other 
at the tops of their voices for his mild tone to 
penetrate. 

Well, Mr. Wickham, we did it,” began Ned, 
wickedly, when a lull in the proceedings came. 
But he spoke to empty air. Big Chris had 
quietly moved away when it was certain that 
the crop would be over a hundred bushels. 

‘‘ Don’t plague him to-night, boys,” said 
Brother Eddy. ‘‘ The result was a little hard 
on him, even though I believe he hoped for it. 
To-morrow he will be all right!” 

And he was. The next morning he even con- 
gratulated Tom on the fine crop, but failed to 
mention it in definite figures. There was one 
consolation coming for Big Chris, however. 
When the boys harvested the corn from the 
remainder of their five acres and measured it, 
they found that they had not done as well as on 


284 


TOM WICKHAM 


the one acre. Altogether, the average of the 
five acres, counting in their champion plot, was 
less than a hundred bushels. However, it was 
not far from it. 

When Tom told his father this news, it 
cheered up the old man greatly. Somehow it 
gave him back a little of the self-respect he felt 
he had lost when the boys had proved what they 
could do in opposition to his opinions. They had 
claimed they could raise over a hundred bushels 
an acre and they hadn’t done it. That one acre 
should have come up to their expectations was 
a fluke — it could have happened to anyone. 

As soon after harvest as possible, Ned had 
finished up the report and sent it to Washington, 
a copy going by the same mail to Mr. Elwood. 
Brother Eddy and Big Chris signed them as 
witnesses. 

It wasn’t long before they had a reply. The 
postman came by at recess time one day and 
whistled at the front gate. 

The letter he gave Ned was long and very 
impressive with all its important looking 
decorations of sealing wax. Besides, it was 
postmarked Washington. 


THE HARVEST 285 

“ Hurry and open it, Ned,’’ cried Bob. It’s 
from Mr. Elwood, isn’t it?” 

Can’t tell ; it’s typewritten,” returned the 
other boy. ‘‘ No, it’s from the Smithsonian 
people.” 

‘‘ What does it say? Shake a leg, Ned; don’t 
be all day — ” 

Keep your shirt on — I’m doing the best I 
can. Great day, fellows, they’ve sent each of us 
a check for one hundred dollars just for hap- 
pening on that gun chamber. I reckon that’s 
bad luck, eh ? I — I can get that wireless outfit 
I wanted now.” 

‘‘ And mine will help to buy a piece of land 
all our own,” exulted Tom. 

I’m going to send for a set of engineering 
books, I guess,” said Bob, “ and a pair of high 
laced boots like engineers wear — ” 

The other boys laughed good-naturedly. They 
were too happy to poke fun at their friend who, 
since Whiskers’ departure, had only one thought 
and that was of the time when he would be a 
full-fledged engineer. 

‘‘ But you dropped a paper from the envelope,” 
observed Tom, stooping down and recovering it. 


286 


TOM WICKHAM 


Why it's from Mr. Elwood — and it’s about 
our crop. Listen/’ and he began to read: 

'' ' Dear Fellows: 

‘ I was glad to get your report and see 
what a splendid showing you made with 
your corn. However, I have a disappoint- 
ment for you. Your record was just a 
bushel under the lowest prize winner, so 
this year you will have to be content with 
what the crop itself brings you in the way 
of reward. I believe that if you think 
about it for a moment you will realize that 
the good work you did and the results you 
attained under such adverse circumstances 
are gratifying in themselves and Fll be 
much surprised if you do not vote that the 
summer just passed was the best of your 
lives. You chaps are pioneers and I con- 
gratulate you and at the same time thank 
you for the help you have given me and 
better farming conditions generally by 
your good work. 

Very sincerely yours, 

John D. Elwood. 

“ P. S. The checks from the Institute 


THE HARVEST 


287 


ought to help chase any grouch you might 

have about losing a prize. 

J. D. E.’ 

That’s some tough — to be nosed out by a 
bushel.” 

‘‘ But Mr. Elwood’s right,” said Ned, in 
answer to Bob’s outburst, ‘‘ it’s the work that 
counts, not the prize. It’s been a wonderful 
summer.” 

You can just bet your life on that,” said 
Tom heartily. “ Whatever we all do in the 
future, we’ll have this summer to look back on. 
We did our best and had a peach of a time 
doing it.” 

“ Then you don’t care if we didn’t win a 
prize?” queried Ned. 

“ What could be better than making both my 
Dad and Brother Eddy come around to modern 
farming methods? That is worth all the prizes 
in the world.” 

When Tom Wickham got home that night he 
found Big Chris had deserted his newspaper for 
the pile of farmers’ bulletins the boy had so 
carefully saved. The old man lifted his head 
at his son’s entrance and smiled. 


288 


TGM WICKHAM 


Been waitin’ for ye to come home, Tom. 
What do ye think o’ putting up one o’ these here 
cribs to keep seed corn through the winter? 
The book here specifies it’s worth the trouble.” 

“ Fine, Pop,” answered the boy enthusiastic- 
ally. “ We can use up that pile of rough-edge 
lumber the sawmill left down by the river. It 
won’t cost much if we do the work ourselves.” 

When bedtime came, the new firm of Big 
Chris Wickham and Son had planned many 
improvements. 

'' Good night. Pop,” called Tom, as he went 
upstairs. “ I’ll bet we’ll have a farm all our 
own in a year or two ! ” 

The old man answered and then went to the 
door of the house. Spread before him under 
the gray-silver light of the moon, lay the broad 
fields, fringed with piny woods, lying fallow. 
Slowly, as if in a dream, he saw the fields filled 
with tremendous crops, many men busy about 
them. 

‘‘ Tom’s and mine! ” he said softly to himself. 

Tom’s and mine! ” 







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